Presented  to  Princeton  Theological  Seminary 

By  the  f^ev.  Wendell  Ppitne,  D.D. 


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BOAT  LIFE 


IN  EOYPT  AND  NUBIA. 


BY 

WILLIAM  C.  'prime, 

AtJTHOE  OP  “text  LIFE  IX  THE  HOLT  LAXl),’’  “THE  OLD  HOUSE 
THE  KITEE,”  “ LATEB  TEAES,"  ETC. 


NEW  YOBK: 

HARPER  BROTHERS, 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE. 


18  7 2. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1857,  by 
HARPER  & BROTHERS, 

In  the  Gerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


®o  tl)e  incmov2  of 

€l]arlc0  (Simjarb  ^Trumbull, 

0ur  Beloucb  Drotljcr, 

CJt'bo  on  tljz  cbcnfufl  of  tjje  scbcnteenti)  tjon  of  iHavrl), 
fn  tlje  ‘STenr  efflbtccn  ijunUretJ  anD  fiftj^stp, 
tobfle  toe  Ian  sleejjfnfl  fn  tljc  Uallcj  on  t|)fs  sfUe  of 
tf)E  SorUan,  passetj  ober  ttje  B^fber  into 
tbe  Cftn  of  our  CJob, 

1 Debicate  this  llolnnte. 


i‘  e f ^ c e . 


Have  you  not  a house,  0 Braheem  Effendi?”  said 
mj.  friend  Suleiman,  on  whose  shop-front  I was  accus- 
tomed to  sit  in  the  bazaars  of  Cairo.  Braheem  was  the 
nearest  approach  to  the  sound  of  my  name,  that  an  Arab 
could  effect. 

Yea,  verily,  0 Suleiman.” 

Have  you  not  a father  and  a mother?” 

Thy  lips  drop  fragrant  truth,  0 most  magnificent  of 
merchants.” 

“ Then  why  in  the  name  of  Allah  came  you  here  to 
Musr?” 

To  see  men  and  things.  To  gather  knowledge  by 
travel.  To  know  the  world.” 

Is  it  not  written,  ^ Men  are  a hidden  disease?’  and 
elsewhere,  ‘ Communion  with  men  profiteth  nothing,  un- 
less for  idle  talk  ?’  Thou  mightest  better  have  remained 
at  home,  Braheem  Effendi ;”  and  the  smoke  from  his 
chibouk  curled  in  the  still  air  up.  to  the  roof  over  the 
bazaar,  and  out  into  the  sunlight,  and  vanished. 

I sometimes  wonder  whether,  after  all,  the  old  man 
was  not  right. 


VI 


PREFACE. 


In  the  summer  of  1855  I left  America  for  Egypt. 
The  immediate  object’  -which  I had  in  view  -was  the  prose- 
cution of  a favorite  study.  The  kindness  of  my  respected 
and  distinguished  friend^  Joseph  Henry,  LL.D.,  of  the 
Smithsonian  Institute,  and  other  gentlemen  occupying 
positions  in  the  service  of  the  Government  at  Washington, 
provided  me  -with  such  introductions  as  enabled  me  to 
prosecute  my  explorations  in  Egypt  -with  satisfactory 
success,  -while  the  accomplished  scholarship  of  my  com- 
panion, J.  Hammond  Trumbull,  Esq.,  of  Hartford,  not 
only  contributed  to  this  success,  but  added  more  than  I 
can  tell  to  the  pleasure  of  the  voyage. 

The  results  of  my  studies  are  but  hinted  at  in  these 
pages,  -which  are  devoted  almost  exclusively  to  incidents 
of  travel  along  the  Nile. 

The  dreams  of  childhood  realized,  the  hopes  of  early 
manhood  fully  accomplished,  I returned  home  -with 
stories  of  travel  for  ears  -which,  alas  the  day ! -were  closed 
to  my  voice  by  the  solemn  seal  of  death. 

Whether,  that  I have  seen  the  sunrise  flush  the  bro-w 
of  Remeses  at  Abou  Simbal,  and  touch  -with  passionate, 
yet  gentle  and  trembling  caress — as  a lover  -would  touch 
the  lips  of  his  maiden  love,  dead  in  her  glorious  beauty — 
the  cold  lips  of  Memnon  at  old  Thebes ; that  I have  -wan- 
dered through  the  stately  halls  of  Karnak,  and  looked 
up  the  stream  of  time  from  the  summit  of  Cheops;  that 
I have  knelt  at  the  Sepulchre,  and  felt  the  night  wind  on 
my  forehead  in  Gethsemane — whether  all  this  is  sufficient 


PREFACE. 


vii 


to  repay  me  for  the  loss  of  the  last  gaze  out  of  the  eyes 
of  a young,  noble,  and  beloved  brother,  and,  yet  more,  of 
’the  last  words  of  lips  whose  utterances  were  the  guide  of 
my  young  years,  whose  teachings  made  me  love  the  coun- 
tries of  which  old  Homer  sang,  of  which  old  historians 
wrote,  old  philosophers  discoursed  eloquently,  whoso 
morning  and  evening  prayers  had  made  dear  to  me  every 
inch  of  land  that  was  hallowed  by  the  footprints  of  the 
Lord — judge,  ye,  who  have  heard  the  blessing  of  a dying 
father,  or  ye  who,  like  myself,  have  been  far  wanderers 
when  the  God  of  Peace  entered  the  dear  home  circle ! 

to.  €.  p. 


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Contents 


X.  <i[ra 

Page 

Arles — Malta — Cathedral  of  St.  John,  . 15 

2.  JiTlje  Clussk 

The  Nubia— The  Pentapolis— A Sun-worshiper— Sleep  and  Dreams'  • 
Laughter  of  the  Waves — Cape  Ararat— Alexandria,  . . . .20 

5.  OTIjc  §cab'  cf  gilc^anbria. 

Donkeys— Pompey's  Pillar — An  Arab  Girl— Bucksiieesh- Custom-House 
— A Firman — Needles  of  Cleopatra — Catacombs — Opening  Tombs — 
Yases— A Painted  Tomb— A Large  Tomb, 82 

-L  Islmiibcrcjidj. 

Ehacotis— An  Ancient  Lamp— Saint  or  Martyr — Street  Costumes — Fe- 
male Modesty — Mycerinus — Meshalks — Eailway — The  Nile— Moslems 
Praying — Spectres  and  Angels, • . .50 

5f.  Cairo  ijjc  Victorious. 

Dr.  Abbott — Suleiman  Effendi — Oriental  Method  of  Eeasoning — 
Streets— Lattices— Dark  Eyes — Mosk  of  Sultan  Hassan — Citadel — 
Mosk  of  Mohammed  Ali — Suleiman  Aga  and  the  Coffee- Family  Tomb 
OF  Mohammed  Ali — Murad  Bey — Bazaars  of  Cairo — Buying  a Dress,  . 60 

CIjc  ^footprints  of  tlje  ^atriardjs. 

Hajji  Ismael,  a Dragoman — Founding  of  Cairo — Topography- Memphis 
— Heliopolis — Old  Cairo — Ehoda — Matareeyeh — Fig-tree  of  Joseph 
AND  Mary — Heliopolis — Gateway  of  time  of  Moses— Obelisk — Agri- 
culture-Canals, AND  Methods  of  Irrigation— Shooting  along  the 
Desert — Tombs  of  the  Memlook  Sultans,  •. T1 


X 


C ONTENTS 


7.  IJraiTcrs  mib  Coffer. 

Page 

A Derweesii  and  an  Argument — I Convert  him — Punch  and  Judy — A 
Donkey  Derweesii— Mosk  of  Amer— The  Nilometer,  and  Island  op 
Riioda — Howling  and  Whirling  Derweeshes— Description  of  their 
Services— The  American  Mission SO 


fa  lllalj  |l 


Mosk  of  Tooloon — Shapes  and  Shadows — The  Destiny  of  Mohammedan- 
ism— English  Egypt — Mark  the  I’ropiiecv, 90 


ff.  Sljeih  pousseiiT  |biT-Cgib. 

An  Arab  Mare — The  Old  Sheik — Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti — How  Sheik 
Houssein  came  to  Cairo^Prisoners — Sheik  Houssein  is  Arrested — I 

ACCOMPANY  HIM  TO  THE  TRANSIT  OFFICE— SCENE  THERE- A FURIOUS 

Crowd — A Bail  Bond — A Photograph  of  the  Sheik, 97 


Iff.  fab  aab  f ibertjT. 

A Street  Bow— Treaties  with  Turkey — Their  Injustice— A Murderer — 

The  Blood  Eevenge— Procession  of  the  Makhmil— The  Bar  Zouaileh 
AND  THE  KuTB-=PaBTING  WITH  ShEIK  HoUSSEIN— HEARING  OF  HIM  AGAIN,  lC9l 


11.  (lIjc  ^Ijantom. 

Buying  Provisions  and  Furniture—Abd-el-Atti— Contract  for  the 
Nile  Voyage — The  Phantom,  my  Boat— Description  of  the  Boat — 
Servants — Ferrajj — Hassan — Hajji  Mohammed,  the  Cook — Money- 
ciiANGER— The  Departure— All  Aboard— First  Night  on  the  Nile,  120i 

12.  ^outbbarb  po ! 

Sound  of  the  Muezzin  Call — An  Obliging  Government— Nile  Mud — 
First  Impressions  of  the  Nile — Benisoef — Abd-el-Atti  thrashes  a Na- 
tive— Wild  Pigs— Abou-Girg— Going  for  Milk — Moonlight  Scene  in  a 
Mud  Village — Eemains  of  Ancient  Habitations, 130 

15.  Prabcent  Cffcnbi  Cl  Jlbabi:. 

Kalouseneh- A Coffee  Shop — Boosa— Dancing--Girls— A Disgusting 
Dish- A Law  Question — I turn  Kiiadi  and  Decide  it— A Costly  Head- 
dress-Palm-trees AND  Moonlight- Mohammed  Hassan— A Boy  nearly 
Drowned,  and  a Bow- Convent  of  the  Pulley — Swimming  Monks — 
Medical  Advice, 143 


CONTENTS, 


XI 


M.  glnufaloot  anb  (gs  ^iouf. 

Page 

Cbocopiles — Beni  Hassan — A New  Passengee — Abou  Meshalk— Eeis 
Hassanein  and  ni3  'W'ife— Manfaloot— Es  Siout— Latif  Pasha— A Ke- 
ception — Bedouin  Tueoats— Tombs  neae  Es  Siout— A Visit  to  them,  156 


15.  (Ll)auhsgibing 

SUGAE-CANE  AND  COTTON— PkODUCTS  OF  THE  NiLE  YaLLET— ChIBOUKS  AND 
Latakea — Americans — An  American  Baby — Brick-making — Ancient 
Bricks— A very  interesting  Picture  in  a Tomb — Latif  Pasha  leaves 
Es  Siout — Salutes — Thanksgiving  Memories — A New  Postal  Ar- 
rangement— A Dromedary  Express, 167 

U.  life  g.Iong  iht  lUbtr. 

Baking  Bread — Sheik  IIerbeddee— Pelicans— Crocodiles— Benefits  of 
A Firman — Mensheeh- Pipes  of  Tobacco — Hajji-Mohammed— Hassa- 
bo's  Fright — Fishing  in  the  Nile — A Long  Pull — A Devil,  • . . 173 

17.  gbb-cl-llabcr  Sfir. 

The  Eeis  Beats  the  Crew — Gheneh — Abd-el-Kader — IIis  Deception 

ROOM — The  Sound  of  Church  Bells, 190 

IB^^.  (To  a ^iar. 

The  Story  of  Sheik  IIoussein  and  the  Christian  Lady  whom  he  Loved — 

A Dead  Man — and  Buried, 197 

Iff.  (L^c  Citg  0f  a pitnbrcb 

Thebes — Euins- Theban  Tombs — Turf  on  Graves— The  Sulky  Governor 
— The  Great  Temple  at  Luxor— Obelisks— Mustapha  Aga  the  Ameri- 
can Agent — A Christian  Chapel — Counterfeit  Antiques — Sunrise  on 
Memnon — Pilgrim  Footprints — Excavations, 206 


2(T.  (lIjc  giudrnt  Jrab  at  ^siic. 

Thebes  to  Esne — Temple  at  Esnt:— Mummies  Lying  in  the  Temple— I Ex- 
amine THEM— Priestess  and  Priest — Summary  Justice  on  a Native — 
Medicine  and  Surgery— Donkey  Trade, 220 

21.  ^niimg  gmtiqncs. 

Sunday  on  the  Eiver— El  Kab,  the  Ancient  Eileithyas- Antiques,  True 
OR  False— Cost  of  Antiques — Buying  Them— An  Arab  Horse- Eain  in 
Egypt— Euins  of  Eileithyas- Lizards, 227 


Xll 


CONTENTS 


22.  (£bfou. 

Page 

A Deseet  Make— Edfou— The  Temple— Scleimax,  the  Goveenoe— Fuxe- 
EAL  OF  A Boy  who* Died  of  a Devil — Buying  moke  Antiques — Another 
Governor — A Coukt  of  Justice — Government  of  Egypt — Eastern  To- 
bacco— Latakea — A Strong  Pull,  thanks  to  Mohammed  Eoumali,  236 

25.  clIjc  S^obcr  of 

A Bow  ON  Shore — IIagar  Silsilis — Temple  at  Koum  Ombos — Hassabo 
Arrives  at  Home — Arrival  at  Es  Souan — Elephantine — The  Cemetery 
AT  Es  Souan— The  American  Agent— The  Eeises  of  the  Cataract— 

The  Contract  for  Going  up — The  Start,  . . 247 


2-1.  (lIjc  Jirst  Cataract. 

The  Eapids — Ascent  of  the  Cataract— Incidents  of  the  Ascent— Bag 
Boug  and  the  Brandy — Piiiljs— Moonlight  on  Phil.e— The  Pass  of 
THE  Cataract, 262 


25.  Uoouliglit. 

Jackals  and  a 'Wolf — IIassan  Shellalee  and  his  Mother — Old  Women 
in  Egypt— Moonlight  on  the  Euins — Njtbia — Miserable  Life— Nubian 
Villages — An  Eventful  History, 273 


2ff.  (Lljt  Unbiaits. 

Medical  Advice — A Horrible  Case — A Devoted  Wife — Korusko — Derr 
— Abdul  Eahman  and  his  Physician — Hassan  Kasheef  and  his  Hun- 
dred Wives — Fruit  and  Wine— Chameleons— Abou  Simbal — Tombs  of 
THE  Sons  of  Israel — A Fight  on  Deck — The  Second  Cataract — Christ- 
mas Eve 283 


27.  CIjc  ^rtonb  Cataract. 

Wady  Halfeh — A Dromedary  Eide  across  the  Desert — Gazelles — A 
Chase — Alone  on  the  Desert — Abou  Seir — The  Second  Cataract  of  the 
Nile — Names  Cut  in  the  Eock — Christmas  Dinner — Preparations  for 
THE  Eeturn  Voyage, 295 


2^:.  ^hoix  ^imbaL 


Eock  Temple  at  Ferayg — I Fall  into  a Tomb — Abou  Simbal— Illumina- 
tion OF  the  Temple— Brilliant  Effect — Nubian  Fellaheen— The 
Colossi— The  Temples  of  Abou  Simbal, 802 


CONTENTS 


xiii 


2(F.  Hortl^foarb  in  Hubin. 

Pago 

Derr  Again  and  Abdul  Eaiiman — Temple  at  Derr — Ostriches,  and  a 
Monkey — Temple  at  Amada — Letters  from  Home! — I tell  mt  Crew 
ABOUT  Dr.  Kane— Saboa — A Heavy  Sea — A Nubian  Girl— Left  Behind 
— Old  People — Dakkeh, 810 

xIO'.  in  ^cinpt. 

Gerf  Hossayn — Turbulent  Natives — Justice  Administered— Kalabshee 
— New  Year's  Day  at  Puilje — Descent  of  the  Cataract — New  Year's 
Calls  at  Es  Souan — Travelers’  Boats — Jessamine — II agar  Silsilis — 

The  Quarries  and  Grottoes, 318 

51.  g^rrnhcc  nnb  giniirjius. 

Edfou — The  Temple  and  its  Dark  Chambef.s— An  Arrakee  Distillery — 
Wild  Fowl — Eoman  Euins  at  Eileithyas — Ancient  Homes — Tombs  at 
El  Kab— Four  American  Boats— Tobacco, 326 


52.  ^Icljnitt  tljc  gfsnrrfciionist. 

Esne — The  Mummies  Again — Strolls  Along  Shore — A Dumb  Beauty 
— Luxor  by  Night — A Light  Among  the  Tombs — An  Ancient  Prince — 

A Theban  History, 337 


55.  (LlicbfS  iljc  p^agniSccnt. 

The  Tent  on  Shore — Medeenet  Habou — Evening  in  the  Tent — Tombs 
OP  THE  Assaseef — TiiE  Eemeseion — Theban  Tombs — Achmet  Again — 
Mummies— Private  Tombs— Number  35,  346 

5-f.  (L^c  l^alnccs  of  ibc  grn5. 

An  Unexpected  Meeting — Mr..  Eighter — An  Antique  Shop— Discovery 
OF  Mummy  Shawls — Mummies  in  Wrong  Boxes — Tombs  of  the  Kings — 
Belzoni's  Tomb— Bruce's  Tomb-^My  Friend  Whitely,  ....  362 

55.  pe  bleeps  McK. 

Cabin  of  the  Phantom- Mustapiia  Aga's  House — A Dying  Artist— 
Karnak — Digging  a Grave — The  Last  Look — The  Funeral  and 
Burial, 872 


55.  (lIjc  (JBIorjr  of  Jlnrnab. 

Extent  op  Karnak — Egyptian  Ideas  of  Immortality — Approach  to 
Karnak,  Shishak  and  Eehoboam— Champollion  ant)  his  Discoveries— 
Melek  Aiudah — Moonlight  on  Karnak — That  Lonely  Grave,  . . SS6 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


37.  gTcmuoix  l)is  gaugljtcr. 

Page 

A Jerked  Performance — Guawazee  Girls — Finding  a Ladder — Memnon 
—Climbing  into  ms  Lap— IIoussein  Kasiieef  the  Governor— Old  and 
Lonely— The  Last  Evening  at  Luxor- The  Surly  N azie— Leaving 
Thebes- Takin’g  a Mummy  on  Board, 397 


33.  2^  (Lurluslj  HoblcmHiT. 

Gheneii— Abd-el-Kader  Bey— Ducks  and  Foxes— IIoussein  Kasheef 
MADE  Happy— Dendera — A Present  from  Abd-el-Kadee,  . . . 411 

33.  (lIjc  Crocobilt 

Maabdeh — A Party  for  the  Crocodile  Pits — Mr.  Legh's  Account — 
P.OAD  TO  the  Pits— Entrance— First  Chamber- Perilous  Advance- 
Narrow  Place — The  Crocodile  Mummies— Coming  Out — Attack  from 
THE  Natives — Manfaloot— The  Governor's  Administration  of  Justice 
— The  Coptic  Bishop, 417 


'13.  gcsolaic  places. 

Beni  IIassan — Tomb  of  Joseph— Latif  Pasha  at  Minieh — Sakkara — A 
Eow  ON  Shore — MEMPras — Sesostris  Fallen — Tomb  of  Apis — A Brief 
Battle— Seizing  Soldiers— The  Pyramids  of  Giiizeh — We  Leave  the 
Phantom, 439 

'IL  llbioii  anb  ^vcalitics. 

Bucksiieesh — Tobacco  and  Kief— Suleiman  Effendi’s  Shop- Story  of 
Selim  Pasha's  Love — A Eicii  Soil — The  Dust  of  Benjamin  and  Judah 
— The  Wife  of  Manasseh — Joseph  and  Benjamin — The  Departure  for 
IIoLY  Land,  . . . . : 444 

gpjjcubh'. 

A. — Sketch  of  the  History,  Eeligion,  and  Written  Language  of  An- 


cient Egypt, 471 

B.— Advice  to  Travelers  Visiting  Egypt,  493 


F i'  f|  6 i 0 b q 11 1)  i . 

Fka  Giovanni  was  a Franciscan.  His  face  was  one 
that  you  loved  to  look  at.  A calm  and  beautiful  face. 
Sometimes,  when  the  long  black  lashes  fell  over  his  cheek 
and  his  mind  went  wandering  over  the  hills  about  San 
Germano  in  the  fair  land  of  Italy,  I used  to  think  I 
was  looking  at  the  face  of  him  of  Patmos,  the  beloved 
disciple,  who,  much  as  he  loved  the  ascended  Christ,  yet 
remained  longest  of  all  the  twelve  away  from  him ; and 
when  ray  friend  prayed,  as  I have  seen  him  pray,  with 
tears,  and  yet  very  bright  hope,  in  his  eyes,  I used  to  re- 
member the  same  John,  and  think  I could  see  his  eyes, 
when  he  uttered  the  last  fervent  prayer  that  his  Lord 
would  come  quickly,  from  whom  he  had  been  so  long 
separated. 

We  met  in  the  theatre  at  Arles,  that  old  town  of  the 
south  of  France  which  boasts  a rival  to  the  Roman  Coli- 
seum. I was  sitting  in  the  twilight,  Avith  no  one  but 


16 


AN  OLD  THEATRE. 


Miriam  and  tlie  guardian  near  me,  and  I Avas  dreaming, 
as  I suppose  any  enthusiastic  American  may  be  permitted 
to  dream  the  first  time  he  finds  his  feet  on  the  boards — on 
the  rocks,  I should  say — of  an  ancient  theatre.  The  fading 
light  AA'as  not  unfavorable  to  such  an  occupation.  Ghosts 
' came  at  my  call  and  filled  the  otherwise  vacant  seats. 

I saAv  fair  women,  brave  men,  magistrates,  soldiers,  sen- 
ators, and  an  emperor,  yea  verily,  an  emperor,  in  the  seat 
between  the  marble  columns.  There  were  wrestlers,  just 
come  from  the  games  near  by  in  the  amphitheatre,  stand- 
ing  by  the  stage,  and  dancers,  and  jesters,  and  masked 
figures  flitting  to  and  fro.  All  Avas  silent.  But  the 
silence  grcAV  intolerable,  and  at  length  I interrupted  it 
myself. 

You  need  not  laugh  at  me  for  talking  Greek.  Those 
Roman  ghosts  could  understand  Greek  as  Avell  as  English, 
or,  for  that  matter,  as  Avell  as  Latin,  and  if  they  kneAv  any 
thing  they  should  have  knoAAui  ^schylus.  So  I acted 
})rompter  and  gave  them 

“ Xdovo^  /XEV  eig  Tt}?.ovpdv  t/kojusv  tveSov 
'LKvdrjv  hg  olpov  d^porov  slg  Eprjptav,'' 

whereupon  the  ghosts  vanished.  In  a flash,  in  the  tAvink- 
ling  of  a star,  the  scene  Avas  one  of  cold  bare  rocks  in  the 
gray  tAvilight,  a ruined  hall,  fallen  columns  over  Avhich 
countless  snails  Avere  craAvling,  and  Kaiser  and  actor  Avere 
dust  of  a verity  under  my  feet. 

But  a A'oice  ansAvered  my  voice.  For  in  a nook  among 
the  confused  stones  near  the  stage  had  been  sitting,  all 
this  time,  a person  that  I had  not  seen,  Avhose  clear  soft 
voice  came  pleasantly  to  me  as  he  hailed  congenial  com- 
pany in  this  place  of  ruins. 

“Who  is  there,  that  Avould  reneAV  old  and  familiar 
echoes  in  these  Avails  ?” 

“ Why  ? Do  you  think  they  ever  heard  that  before  ?” 


ST.  John’s  at  malt  a. 


17 


“Tbe  Prometheus?  Yes — why  not?  There  were 
scliolarly  days  when  the  fashionable  Romans  delighted  in 
Greek  plays.” 

We  walked  out,  all  together,  and  down  to  the  miserable 
forum  and  the  hotel,  where,  in  the  evening,  over  a bottle 
of  St.  Peray  that  I had  brought  .from  Valence  with  my 
own  baggage,  we  talked  down  the  hours.  Thus  I became 
acquainted  with  Fra  Giovanni — and  our  acquaintance  fist 
ripened.  He  was  an  Italian,  young,  wealthy,  of  good  fim- 
ily,  and  a jiriest.  He  had  not  been  long  an  ecclesiastic. 
There  were  moments  when  the  former  life  flashed  out 
through  the  fine  eyes  under  his  cowl.  The  memory  of 
other  times  alternately  lit  and  darkened  his  face.  There 
was  some  deep  grief  there  of  which  he  never  told  me,  and 
which  I never  sought  to  know.  He  was  a good,  gentle, 
faithful  friend.  That  was  enough. 

Some  time  after  that,  we  were  standing  in  the  cryjit  of 
the  cathedral  of  St  John’s  at  Malta.  That  day  we  were 
to  separate.  I to  go  eastward,  and  he  to  travel  he -scarce- 
ly knew  whither,  on  the  ivork  of  his  sacred  calling.  Be- 
fore us,  in  marble  silence,  lay  the  stout  Villiers  de  I’Isle 
Adam,  and  a little  way  off  the  brave  Valetta,  sleeping 
after  his  last  great  battle  with  the  Turks,  who  surrounded 
this,  his  rocky  fortress. 

He  who  goes  to  the  East  should  always  go  by  way  of 
Malta.  It  is  a proper  stepping-stone  between  Europe  and 
the  Orient,  where  the  last  wave  of  the  crusades  rolled 
back  from  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  and  sank  in  foam. 

“You  will  find  yourself  always  looking  back  to  this 
little  crypt  in  the  middle  of  the  sea,  wherever  your  foot- 
steps turn,”  said  Fra  Giovanni.  “ Xo  place  in  the 
Mediterranean  is  so  intimately  connected  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  East  as  this  island  of  Malta,  and  there  is 
scarcely  any  part  of  the  Orient  in  which  you  will  not  be 
reminded  of  it.  This  fact  alone,  that  it  is  the  place  of 


18 


CARAVAGGIO. 


the  death  and  burial  of  that  mighty  order  who  for  so 
great  a period  swayed  the  sceptre  of  power  in  Europe,  is 
enough  to  connect  it  with  Egy})t  and  Holy  Land,  indeed 
with  all  the  possessions  of  the  Turks.  Here,  when  Va- 
letta  was  Grand  Master,  the  arms  of  the  Moslem  had 
their  first  great  check,  and  the  followers  of  the  false 
prophet  learned  that  their  boasted  invincibility  was  a 
fable.  Here,  too,  but  yesterday,  when  the  great  leader 
of  the  French  had  garrisoned  the  island,  your  stout  cous- 
ins of  England,  who  followed  his  swift  feet  as  the  hounds 
follow  after  the  deer,  drove  out  his  soldiery.  You  will 
think  of  that  when  you  see  the  boastful  inscription  of 
Desaix  at  the  cataract  of  the  Nile.  There  have  been 
valiant  deeds  done  on  this  rock.  If  the  sea  could  have 
a voice,  it  would  tell  of  men  of  might,  and  deeds  of  might 
done  here,  that  are  themes  for  bards  Avho  love  to  cele- 
brate the  great  acts  of  men.  But  the  sea  is  the  only 
living  thing  that  knows  them.  For  there  are  no  trees, 
nor  ancient  vines,  nor  any  thing  here  but  the  great  rock, 
and  the  living,  moving,  throbbing  sea  around  it.” 

I don’t  know  but  my  friend  would  have  talked  on  all 
day,  had  not  a gun  from  the  harbor  announced  that  the 
steamer  was  heaving  up  her  anchor. 

AVe  left  the  crypt  and  walked  over  the  splendid  floor 
of  the  cathedral,  which  is  inlaid  with  a thousand  tomb- 
stones of  knights  of  the  Cross.  I glanced  once  more  at 
the  j^icture  of  the  Beheading  of  John,  which  Caravaggio 
painted  that  he  might  be  admitted  to  the  order,  and 
painted  in  fading  colors  (water  some  say)  that  the  evi- 
dence of  his  debasement  of  the  art,  and  their  debasement 
of  the  order,  might  disappear ; and  then,  rushing  out  into 
the  Strada  Reale,  and  plunging  down  the  steep  narrow 
streets  to  the  landing-place,  overturning  a half  dozen  com- 
missionaires, each  of  whom  swore  he  was  the  man  that 
said  good-morning  the  day  previous,  and  became  thereby 


THE  SIGN  OP  THE  CROSS. 


19 


entitled  to  his  five  francs  (for  no  one  need  imagine  that 
he  will  land  at  Malta  without  paying,  at  least,  three  com- 
missionaires and  five  porters,  if  he  carry  no  baggage  on 
shore,  or  twice  as  many,  if  he  have'  one  portmanteau), 
I parted  from  Fra  Giovanni,  with  a warm  pressure  of  the 
hand,  a low  “ God  bless  you,”  pd  a long,  earnest  look 
out  of  those  eyes  of  John  the  Saint. 

"Wlien  the  Niihia  swung  up  on  the  port-chain,  with  lier 
head  to  the  opening  of  the  harbor,  and  ran  out  to  sea, 
she  passed  close  under  the  Lower  Barracka,  so  close  that 
I could  recognize  faces  on  it.  In  the  corner,  by  the  mon- 
ument of  Sir  Alexander  Ball,  I saw  my  friend.  As  he 
recognized  me,  he  waved  his  hand  toward  me,  and  even 
in  that  motion  I caught  his  intent ; for  he,  good  Catholic 
that  he  was,  could  not  let  me,  his  heretic  friend,  go  to 
sea,  and  especially  to  the  East,  without  that  last  sign  of 
the  redemption  by  way  of  benediction.  I thanked  him 
for  it,  for  he  meant  it  lovingly,  and  so  I was  away  for 
the  Orient.  We  met  again  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

‘ Such  was  my  step  from  the  modern  world  to  the  an- 
cient. From  good  old  Presbyterian  habits  and  friends  to 
the  companionship  and  affection  of  a Franciscan  brother 
among  the  relics  of  the  mediaeval  Mmrld,  and  then  to  the 
heart  of  Orient,  Cairo  the  Magnificent,  el  Kahira  the  Vic- 
torious. 


2. 


llie  0lf|§,§ic  Sei)- 


There  is  a comfort,  'when  traveling  eastward,  in  meet- 
ing Englishmen.  You  are  very  certain,  in  coming  in 
contact  with  the  English  pleasure-traveler,  to  meet  a gen- 
tleman. Exceptions  are  very  rai-e.  It  is  also  worthy  of 
remark,  that  the  English  gentleman,  so  soon  as  he  learns 
that  you  are  American,  regards  you  as  a fit  companion, 
which  is  a degree  of  confidence  that  he  is  very  far  from 
i-eposing  in  one  of  his  own  nationality.  Englishmen  meet- 
ing Englishmen,  look  on  one  another  as  so  many  pick- 
pockets might,  each  of  whom  was  certain  that  each  of  his 
neighbors  meant  to  rob  him  on  the  first  available  oppor- 
tunity. 

This,  perhaps  arises  from  the  danger  that  foreign  ac- 
quaintances may  entail  unpleasant  and  impracticable  rec- 
ognitions at  home.  There  is  no  apprehension  of  this  in 
meeting  Americans,  and  this  may  serve  to  explain  a will- 
ingness to  find  society  for  the  time  which  will  not  prove 
troublesome  in  the  future. 

But  I am  disposed  to  give  our  cousins  over  the  water 
more  credit  for  kindred  affection.  I have  always  found 
them  cordial,  warm-hearted,  frank  and  hearty  companions 
and  friends.  I was,  perhaps,  fortunate  in  those  whom  I 
met,  but  they  were  .many,  lords,  spiritual  and  temjDoral, 
soldiers,  sailors,  and  shop-keepers;  and  I found  the  name 


A ROUGH  SEA. 


21 


of  American  a pass  to  their  hearts.  Some  had  friends  in 
our  new  country,  and  perhaps  I had  seen  and  known 
them — and  once  or  twice  I had — all  had  an  idea  that  wo 
were  a race  of  brave  and  active  men,  given  to  boasting, 
but  good-natured  at  that,  nearly  related  to  them  in  blood, 
and  allies  of  England  as  champions  of  freedom  against  the 
despotisms  of  the  world. 

This  last  idea  was  one  of  new  and  startling  force  to  me, 
as  I looked  back  from  Europe  and  the  East  to  England 
and  America.  The  line  between  freedom  and  tyranny 
runs  up  the  British  Channel.  It  is  not  the  broad  At- 
lantic. Our  Constitution  is  of  English  origin,  based  on 
English  law,  and  the  boast  which  we  inherit  from  our 
revolutionary  patriots  was,  that  Britons  would  never  be 
slaves. 

The  sea  "svas  still.  From  Marseilles  to  Malta,  in  the 
little  mail  steamer  Valetta^  we  had  experienced  a constant 
gale,  sailing  almost  all  the  way  under  water.  Ladies  had 
nearly  died  from  the  exhaustion  of  sea-sickness.  The  day 
that  we  passed  the  straits  of  Bonifacio  was  the  worst  in 
my  memory  of  bad  days  at  sea.  All  day  long  the  sea 
went  over  us,  fore  and  aft.  To  live  below  deck  was  im- 
possible, the  foul  air  of  the  little  steamer  close  shut  and 
battened  down  being  poisonous.  The  ladies  who  were 
sea-sick  were  brought  on  deck  and  laid  on  island  cushions 
around  which  the  water  washed  back  and  forth.  Here  day 
and  night  for  seventy  hours  they  moaned  and  shrieked.  One 
of  them  we  thought  hourly  would  die.  Miriam  and  Amy, 
our  American  ladies,  were  brave  and  good  sailors,  but  the 
scene  was  almost  too  much  for  them.  The  gale  saw  us 
into  the  port  of  Malta,  and  then  flattened  dovm  to  a calm, 
and  never  was  there  suoh  a beautiful  sea  as  we  sailed  over 
to  Alexandria.  Xo  wind  disturbed  the  profound  beauty 
of  that  water  whose  azure  I had  never  before  dreamed  of. 
It  was  a never-ending  source  of  pleasure  to  lean  over  the 


22 


D A Y - D A W N AT  SEA. 


side  and  gaze  into  the  deej)  blue,  that  surpassed  the  sky- 
in  richness,  on  which  the  bubbles  from  the  swift  prow 
went  dancing  gayly  before  us,  white  flashing  and  vanish- 
ing, to  be  followed  by  others  and  others,  all  day  and  all 
night  long. 

The  poop  cabin  had  been  by  some  odd  chance  left  va- 
cant, and  I had  secured  it  for  Miriam  and  Amy.  In  a 
season  when  the  through  India  passengers  crowded  the 
line  of  the  Peninsular  and  Oriental  Company,  this  was  a 
most  fortunate  and  unexpected  occurrence.  The  cabin 
was  much  the  pleasantest  on  shipboard,  and  they  slept  in 
it  enough  to  make  up  their  losses  on  the  Valetta. 

I passed  the  night  on  deck,  and  could  wake  at  any  hour 
and  recognize  the  stars  over  me,  that  had  so  often  seen 
me  sleeping  in  western  wanderings.  The  old  Englishman 
who  had  the  wheel  on  the  starboard  watch  on  the  first 
night  out  from  Malta,  when  he  saw  me  rolling  a blanket 
around  me  and  lying  down  on  a bench,  grunted  a disap- 
proval of  it  to  himself,  and  even  ventured  to  his  mate  at 
the  wheel  a remark  to  the  detriment  of  my  eyes,  ex^Dress- 
ing  also  his  belief  that  I would  go  below  before  morning. 
How  he  came  to  be  on  the  watch  in  the  morning  I don’t 
know,  but  he  expressed  unmitigated  delight  at  my  visual 
organs  being  unafiected  by  his  remarks,  when  he  saw  me 
start  up  before  the  break  of  dawn  in  the  east,  and  throw 
ofi*  my  blanket  and  sleep  together,  while  I walked  over 
to  the  rail  and  watched  to  see  the  coming  day. 

Let  him  who  would  see  the  magnificence  of  dawn  be- 
hold it  in  the  Levant,  off*  the  coast  of  the  Pentapolis.  It 
is  no  matter  for  wonder  that  the  ancients  had  such  glori- 
ous ideas  of  Aurora  and  her  train.  The  first  rays  over  the 
blue  horizon  were  splendid.  I gazed  to  see  if  Jerusalem 
itself  were  not  the  visible  origin  of  that  splendor.  Then 
swift  in  the  track  of  his  rays,  came  the  gorgeous  sun, 
springing  out  of  the  sea  like  a god  of  triumph,  and  he 


THE  PASSENGERS. 


23 


went  uj)  into  the  heavens  with  a majestic  pomp  that  the 
sun  has  nowhere  but  just  here.  There  Avas  on  board  the 
ship  a Pharsee,  Avith  his  servants.  I did  not  Avonder  at 
that  longing  gaze  Avith  Avhich  I saAv  him  looking  at  his 
rising  god.  I,  too,  had  I been  taught  as  he,  Avould  die  a 
Avorshiper  of  that  god  of  light. 

The  second-class  passengers  Avere  a motley  croAvd. 
Italian,  Maltese,  French,  Greek,  Arab,  and  Lascar,  they 
lay  in  heaps  along  the  deck  until  the  pumps  sent  the  water 
flooding  over  them  when  the  decks  were  washed,  and 
then  climbed  into  the  rigging  and  sunned  themselves  dry. 
I held  a general  levee  among  them  every  forenoon,  ex- 
amining their  various  developments,  and  ended  it  Avith  a 
handful  of  cigars  on  deck,  Avhich  transformed  the  croAvd 
into  a mass  of  legs  and  arms,  their  heads  being  absolutely 
.inA'isible  in  the  melee.  The  flrst  day  there  grew  four  sep- 
arate fights  out  of  this  generosity  of  mine,  and  the  sec- 
ond day  three.  I omitted  it  the  third,  but  there  were  six 
combats  on  that  morning,  and  I would  have  resumed  the 
practice  on  the  fourth  morning  but  that  we  Avere  in  the 
harbor  of, Alexandria. 

Among  the  passengers  Avere  tAVO  major-generals  in  the 
East  India  Company’s  service,  one  of  AA^hom  Avas  capital 
company.  I usually  had  possession  of  the  port  side  of 
the  after  skylight  deck,  which  being  lifted  up  at  each  end 
to  allow  air  in  the  cabin  below,  made  a A^ery  comfortable 
lounge.  As  it  Avas  close  to  the  poop  cabin,  I furnished  it 
easily  with  cushions  and  pillows,  and  Ave  were  accustomed 
to  make  *this  our  reception-room  of  an  afternoon.  The 
general  enjoyed  a talk  about  America,  by  way  of  intro- 
duction to  a story,  and  stories,  by  himself  about  India  and 
the  Indians,  Avhich  he  much  delighted  to  relate,  and  to 
which,  I confess,  I was  not  unAAulling  to  listen. 

The  scene  on  the  deck  of  the  steamer  at  such  times 
was  the  gayest  imaginable ; unUke  any  other  great  line 


24 


A SUN  WORSHIPER. 


of  travel,  either  by  sea  or  land,  in  that  the  ladies  on  board 
seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  elegance  of  their 
afternoon  dresses.  Here  lay  on  a pile  of  cushions  a lady 
of  rare  and  delicate  beauty,  dressed  in  white  from  head 
to  foot,  her  dress  the  finest  lawns  and  laces  of  exquisite 
texture ; while,  by  way  of  contrast  or  foil  to  her  beauty, 
an  Indian  servant,  black  as  an  African,  and  dressed  in 
crimson,  Avith  a long  piece  of  yellow  cloth  Avound  around 
his  head  and  shoulders,  stood  fanning  his  mistress.  There 
stood  a group  of  young  ladies,  all  in  black,  but  all  richly 
dressed  and  every  neck  gleaming  Avith  jeAvels;  while  a 
half-dozen  young  men,  officers  and  civilians  intermingled, 
Avere  making  the  neighborhood  intolerable  by  their  inces- 
sant floAV  of  nonsense.  Tavo  English  generals,  Avith  their 
families,  Avere  on  deck,  and  a Portuguese  governor-gen- 
eral, with  his  suite,  outward-bound  to  the  possessions  of 
Portugal  in  the  Indies.  Children  Avere  playing  every- 
Avhere,  and  officers  hastening  hither  or  thither  found 
themselves  constantly  entangled  m the  games  of  the  young 
ones,  or  lost  in  circles  of  laughing  girls,  or  actually  made 
fast  by  the  endless  questions  of  some  elderly  mother  of  a 
family. 

And  Vhen  the  sun  Avent  doAvn  in  the  sea,  our  fellow- 
passenger,  the  Pharsee,  might  be  seen  on  the  distant  fore- 
castle, standing  calmly  Avith  folded  arms  and  steadfast 
eyes  fixed  on  his  descending  god,  and  following  his  course 
Avith  fixed  countenance  long  after  he  had  disappeared,  as 
if  he  could  penetrate  the  very  earth  itself  Avith  that  ador- 
ing gaze.  And  it  did  not  seem  strange  here  that  he 
should  Avorship  that  orb.  I,  too,  began  to  feel  that  there 
Avas  something  grand,  majestic — almost  like  a god — in  the 
everlasting  circuit  of  the  sun  above  these  seas.  Day  by 
day — day  by  day — for  thousands  of  years,  the  eye  of  his 
glory  had  seen  the  Avaves  of  the  Great  Sea.  The  Phoe- 
nician sailors,  Cadmus,  Jason — all  the  bold  navigators 


SLEEP  AND  DREAMS. 


25 


.that  are  known  in  song  and  story — he  had  watched  and 
guided  to  port  or  destruction. 

Is  it  the  same  great  sun  that  looks  down  on  American 
forests  ? Is  it  the  same  sun  that  has  shone  on  me  when 
I slept  at  noonday  on  the  rocky  shores  of  the  Delaware, 
or  whose  red  departure  I have  watched  from  the  hills 
of  Minnesota  ? The  same  sun  that  beheld  the  glory  of 
Nineveh,  tlie  fall  of  Persepolis,  the  crumbling  ruins  of  the 
Acropolis  ? In  such  lands,  on  such  seas  as  this,  he  is  a 
poor  man,  poor  in  imagination  and  the  power  of  enjoy- 
ment, who  does  not  have  new  ideas  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  sun  that  has  shone  on  the  birth,  magnificence,  burial, 
and  forgotten  graves  of  so  many  nations.  Well  as  men 
have  marked  them,  tall  as  they  have  builded  their  monu- 
ments, broad  and  deep  as  they  have  laid  their  founda- 
tions, none  know  them  now  save  the  sun  and  stars,  that 
have  marked  them  day  by  day  with  unforgetful  visita- 
tion. And  when  the  day  was  gone,  and  the  night,  with 
its  deep  blue  filled  with  ten  thousand  more  stars  than  I 
had  ever  seen  before,  was  above  us,  I wrapped  my 
plaid  around  me,  and  disdaining  any  other  cover  than 
that  glorious  canopy,  I slept  on  deck  and  dreamed  of 
home. 

I say  I slept  and  dreamed.  It  was  pleasant  though 
fitful  sleep,  and  I woke  at  dawn.  It  could  not  be  other- 
wise. From  my  childhood,  the  one  longing  desire  to 
visit  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land  grew  on  me  with  my 
growth.  It  entered  into  all  my  plans  of  life — all  my 
prospects  for  the  future.  I talked  of  it  often,  thought 
of  it  oftener,  dreamed  of  it  nightly  for  years.  One  and 
another  obstacle  was  removed,  and  I began  to  see  before 
me  the  immediate  realization  of  my  hopes.  It  would  be 
idle  to  say  mj-  heart  did  not  beat  somewhat  faster  when 
I saw  the  blue  line  of  the  American  horizon  go  down  be- 
hind the  sea.  It  would  still  be  more  idle  to  say,  that  I 

2 


26 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  WAVES. 


did  not  weep  sometimes — tears  that  were  not  childish — 
when  I remembered  the  silent  parting  from  those  dear 
lips  that  had  taught  me  for  thirty  years  to  love  the  land 
that  God’s  footsteps  had  hallowed,  and  whose  eyes  looked 
so  longingly  after  me  as  I hastened  away.  (God  granted 
me  never  again  those  dear  embraces.)  It  would  be  idle 
to  deny  that  in  my  restless  sleep  on  the  Atlantic  in  the 
narrow  cabin,  my  gentle  Miriam,  who  slept  less  heavily, 
heard  me  sometimes  speak  strange  words  that  might 
have  puzzled  others,  but  which  she,  as  the  companion  of 
my  studies,  recognized  as  the  familiar  names  of  holy 
places. 

But  notwithstanding  all  this,  I did  not,  in  my  calm, 
waking  hours,  feel  that  I "was  approaching  eastern  climes 
and  classic  or  sacred  soil  until  I had  left  Malta,  and  felt 
the  soft  north  wind  coming  dowm  from  Greece.  That 
first  night  on  the  N'ubia  w^as  full  of  it.  I could  not  sleep 
more  than  half  an  hour  at  a time,  and  then  I w^ould  start 
up  wide  awake,  with  the  idea  that  some  one  had  sjDoken 
to  me ; and  once,  I could  not  doubt  it,  I heard  as  plainly 
as  if  it  w^ere  real,  my  father’s  voice — as  I have  heard  it 
often  and  often — reading  from  the  old  prince  and  fiither 
of  song. 

Just  before  daybreak  I crossed  the  deck  and  bared  my 
forehead  to  a soft,  faint  breeze  that  stole  over  the  sea. 
The  moon  lay  in  the  w’est.  The  night  was  clear,  and  I 
could  read  as  if  it  were  day.  I leaned  on  the  rail,  and 
looked  up  to  windw^ard,  wiiere,  here  and  there,  I could 
see  the  white  caps  of  the  thousand  weaves,  silvered  in  the 
light  of  the  purest  moon  I ever  saw^,  and  thinking  of  my 
friend.  Fra  Giovanni,  and  of  my  first  meeting  with  him, 
and  yielding  to  the  tetnptatioii  of  a quotation,  where  no 
one  w\as  near  to  hear  me  and  to  call  it  pedantic,  I began 
to  recite  that  other  splendid  passage  from  the  Prometheus, 


THE  PENTAPOLIS. 


27 


which  was  born  in  the  poet’s  brain  on  this  identical  water 
which  noAV  rolled  around  me  : 

^£2  6log  aid/jp  koI  Taxv~rEpai  ttvoioI 
T\oTa/j,ijv  re  TTTjjal,  ttovtiuv  re  Kvpdruv 
^AurjptOpov  yelaap-a,  TrappjTop  te  7?/ 

Kac  Tov  TravS-TTTjv  kvkXov  rjTuov,  kuau. 

“ And  what’s  the  use  of  calling  on  them  ?”  said  a clear, 
pleasant  voice  behind  me,  as  I started  around  to  recog- 
nize one  of  the  English  generals  whom  I have  mentioned 
as  with  us  on  the  ship. 

“ I say,  what’s  the  use  of  calling  on  them  when  they 
won’t  come  ? Times  are  changed.  There  are  no  gods 
in  Greece  now,  and,  by  Jupiter,  no  men  either,  and  the 
river  nymphs  are  all  gone ; and  the  smiles  of  the  waves, 
look  at  them — they  come  when  they  will,  and  go  where 
they  will ; but  the  good  old  days  of  poetry  are  gone, 
gone,  gone ! Even  as  the  glory  of  yonder  cities  is 
gone  !”  And  he  pointed  to  the  southern  horizon,  where 
I now  saw  the  low  line  of  the  coast  of  Africa  for  the  first 
time.  We  were  just  seventeen  hours  from  Malta  when 
we  came  up  with  it.  It  was  Cape  Arabat,  and  here  were 
the  cities  of  the  Pentapolis.  Here  was  Berenice  the 
beautiful ; Ptolemais  was  here  and  Cyrene.  That  long 
line  of  sand,  deserted  and  desolate,  was  all  that  I was  to 
see  of  their  grandeur ; but  I was  not  sorry  that  my  first 
view  of  Africa  should  be  connected  with  such  associations. 

In  the  forenoon  we  lost  sight  of  land  again,  and  w^ere 
then  left  to  our  own  resources  in  the  ship.  The  sea  was 
in  a generous  humor.  Ftom  the  hour  we  left  Malta  there 
was  almost  a flat  calm.  We  did  not  suffer  a moment’s 
discomfort,  and  I think  there  was  not  a case  of  sea-sick- 
ness on  board. 

Around  our  cabin  doors,  on  the  after  deck,  we  assem- 
bled a gay  group  daily.  The  ship’s  band  made  pleasant 
music  for  us  in  the  afternoons  and  evenings,  once  delight- 


28 


PHAROS  OF  ALEXANDRIA. 


ing  US  with  “ Hail  Columbia”  and  “ Yankee  Doodle,” 
which  sounded  the  more  home-like  for  the  unexpected- 
ness of  those  familiar  sounds  on  an  English  ship  along 
the  coast  of  Africa. 

Night  after  night  came  over  us  udth  never-diminishing 
W’ealth  of  beauty,  and  each  successive  dawn  and  sunrise 
woke  me  from  deep  slumber  on  the  deck  of  the  vessel. 
Thursday  evening  came.  At  midnight  the  deck  was  de- 
serted, and  I -was  alone.  In  that  soft  air  and  exquisite 
climate  I preferred  the  deck  to  my  cabin,  and  had  made 
my  bed  every  night  on  the  planks  under  the  sky.  This 
night  I could  not  sleep.  'The  restlessness  of  which  I have 
spoken  had  increased  as  we  approached  the  shore  of 
Egypt,  and  I walked  the  deck  steadily  for  an  hour,  and 
then  threw  myself  into  one  of  the  dozen  large  chairs 
which,  in  the  day-time,  were  the  private  property  of  as 
many  English  ladies.  At  one  o’clock  I heard  the  officer 
of  the  deck  discussing  the  power  of  his  eyesight,  and 
springing  to  the  rail,  I saw  clearly,  on  the  starboard  bow, 
the  light  of  the  Pharos  at  Alexandria. 

You  may  be  curious  to  know  what  were  my  emotions 
at  the  visible  presence  of  Egypt  before  my  eyes,  and  the 
evidence  that  I should  tread  its  soil  to-morrow.  .1  did 
not  pause  to  think  of  the  magnificence  of  the  old  Pharos 
which  this  one  replaces,  or  of  the  grandeur  that  made  it 
one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  Avorld.  The  great  mir- 
ror that  exhibited  vessels  a hundred  miles  at  sea;  the 
lofty  tower  that  shone  in  the  nights  of  those  old  centu- 
ries, almost  on  the  rocky  shores  of  Crete ; the  palaces  that 
lined  the  shore  and  stretched  far  out  into  the  blue  Medi- 
terranean ; none  of  these  were  in  my  mind. 

Enough  to  say  that,*  before  I thought  of  this  as  the 
burial-place  of  the  mighty  son  of  Philip  ; before  I thought 
of  it  as  the  residence  of  the  most  beautiful  of  queens ; the 
abode  of  luxury  and  magnificence  surpassing  all  that  the 


JOHN,  SURNAMED  MARK. 


29 


world  had  seen  or  will  see ; before  the  remembrance  of 
the  fabled  Proteus,  or  even  the  great  Julius  came  to  my 
mind,  I was  seated  in  my  chair,  my  head  bowed  down  on 
my  breast,  and  before  my  vision  swept  a train  of  old  men 
of  lordly  mien,  each  man  kingly  in  his  presence  and  bear- 
ing, yet  each  man  in  his  life  poor,  lowly,  if  not  despised. 
I saw  the  old  Academician,  his  white  locks  flowing  on 
the  wind,  and  the  Stagyrite,  the  mighty  man  of  all  old  or 
modern  philosophy,  and  a host  of  the  great  men  of  learn- 
ing, whose  names  are  lost  now.  And  last  in  that  vision- 
ary procession — calmer,  more  stately  than  the  rest,  with 
clear  bright  eye  flxed  on  the  heaven  where  last  of  all  he 
saw  the  flashing  footsteps  of  the  angels  that  bore  away 
his  Lord,  with  that  bright  light  around  his  white  fore- 
head that  crowned  him  a prince  and  king  on  earth  and  in 
heaven — I saw  Marh^  the  Apostle  of  Him  whom  Plato 
longed  to  see  and  Aristotle  died  ignorant  of. 

With  daybreak  came  the  outlines  of  the  shore  and  the 
modern  city  of  Iskander eyeh^  conspicuous  above  all  being 
the  Pillar  of  Diocletian,  known  to  modern  fame  as  Pom- 
pey’s  Pillar.  We  lay  outside  all  night  waiting  for  a pilot. 
The  only  benefit  to  be  derived  from  the  modern  light- 
house at  Alexandria  is  its  warning  not  to  approach  the 
harbor,  which  is  entered  by  a winding  channel  among  in- 
numerable reefs  and  rocks.  We  threw  rockets,  burned 
blue-lights,  and  fired  cannon ; but  an  Egyptian  pilot  is 
not  to  be  aroused  before  sunrise,  and  it  was,  therefore, 
two  hours  after  daylight  before  he  came  ofi*  to  us,  and  we 
entered  the  port  on  the  west  side  of  the  city. 

The  instant  that  the  anchor  was  dropped,  a swarm,  like 
the  locusts  of  Egypt,  of  all  manner  of  specimens  of  the 
human  animal,  poured  up  the  sides  of  the  ship  and  cov- 
ered the  deck  from  stem  to  stern.  It  would  be  vain  to 
attempt  to  describe  them.  Moors,  Egyptians,  Bedouins, 
Turks,  Nubians,  Maltese,  nondescripts — white,  black,  yel- 


30 


DRAGOMANS. 


low,  coj^per-colored,  and  colorless — to  the  number  of  two 
or  three  hundred,  dressed  in  as  many  costumes,  con- 
vinced. us  that  we  were  in  a new  country  for  us.  There 
were  many  who  wore  elegant  and  costly  dresses,  but  the 
large  majority  were  of  the  poorest  sort,  and  poverty  here 
seems  to  make  what  we  call  jDoverty  at  home  positive 
wealth. 

Of  a hundred  or  more  of  this  crowd,  the  dress  of  each 
man  consisted  of  one  solitary  article  of  clothing — a shirt  of 
coarse  cotton  cloth,  reaching  not  quite  to  the  knees,  and. 
this  so  thin  as  to  reveal  the  entire  outline  of  the  body, 
while  it  was  usually  so  ragged  as  to  leave  nothmg  to  be 
complained  of  in  the  way  of  extra  clothing.  They  went 
to  work  like  horses,  and  I never  saw  men  exhibit  such 
feats  of  strength.  The  cargo  of  the  shij^  was  to  be  got 
out  as  rapidly  as  possible.  Five  dollars  a day  is  ample 
pay  for  a hundred  of  these  men.  A piastre  and  a half 
(about  eight  cents)  is  the  highest  rate  of  wages  in  Egypt. 

With  the  crowd  who  came  on  board  were  the  usual 
number  of  anxious  and  officious  dragomans. 

The  word  dragoman,  derived  from  turgoman,  and 
meaning  simply  an  interpreter,  has  gotten  to  signify  a 
sort  of  courier,  valet,  servant,  adviser,  and  travehng  com- 
panion, all  combined,  on  whom  the  Oriental  traveler  must 
expect  to  be  dependent  for  his  very  subsistence  from  day 
to  day,  from  and  after  the  moment  he  becomes  attached 
to  him. 

A friend  of  mine,  speaking  of  the  servants,  was  accus- 
tomed to  call  them  “ the  young  ladies  who  boarded  with 
his  mother.”  The  dragoman  may  be  defined  as  the  gen- 
tleman who  travels  with  you.  He  becomes  a j^art  of 
yourself,  goes  where  you  go,  sleeps  where  you  sleep,  you 
talk  through  him,  buy  through  him  (and  pay  him  and 
tlirough  him  at  the  same  time),  and,  in  point  of  fact,  you 
become  his  servant.  All  this,  if  you  choose.  But,  if  you 


A LEARNED  LINGUIST. 


31 


choose  otherwise,  you  may  make  him  what  he  should  he, 
a very  good  servant,  and  nothing  more.  He  who  can 
not  manage  his  own  servants  should  stay  at  home  and 
not  travel.  The  man  wdiose  servant  can  cheat  him, 
should  not  keep  servants,  or  should  submit  to  his  own 
stupidity. 

I may  as  w^ell  pause  here,  to  advise  the  Egyptian  trav- 
eler under  no  circumstances  to  take  a dragoman  until  he 
reaches  Cairo.  He  will  find  English,  French,  and  Italian, 
spoken  everywhere  in  Alexandria,  and  on  the  railway  to 
Cairo,  so  that  he  wall  need  no  assistance  until  he  begins 
to  make  his  arrangements  to  go  up  the  Nile ; which  ho, 
should  not  malce  in  Alexandria. 

One  of  the  importunate,  Avho  came  on  board  the  Nubia, 
may  serve  as  an  example  of  the  rest. 

He  was  a Nubian,  black  and  shining ; dressed  in  the 
Nizam  costume,  embroidered  jacket,  silk  vest,  and  flow- 
ing trowsers,  all  of  dark  green.  He  offered  a handful  of 
testimonials,  but  I rejected  these,  and  asked  him  a ques- 
tion for  the  sake  of  getting  rid  of  him. 

“ What  languages  do  you  speak  ?” 

“ All  de  kinds.  I had  school  w^ent  to — sixty,  seventy 
year.  I ought  know.”  • 

“ Perhaps  you  ought,  but  you  ’svon’t  do  for  me.” 

I had  observed  a respectable-looking  Maltese,  wdio  was 
the  commissionaire  for  Cesar  Tortilla’s  Hotel  d’  Europe. 
Placing  the  baggage  in  his  charge,  we  made  our  way 
dowm  into  a boat,  and  a tall,  halfnaked  Arab,  standing  up 
to  his  oars,  pulled  us  slowly  in  to  the  crowded  landing- 
place  at  the  custom-house  of  Alexandria. 

Here  I entered  Egypt ; and,  at  this  same  spot,  on  a 
moony  midnight  five  months  later,  I departed  for  the 
Holy  Land. 


3. 


Ilie  of 


Alexandria  is  a strange  medley.  The  W est  and  the 
East  have  met  and  intermarried  in  her  streets.  The  great 
square  presents  the  most  singular  spectacle  that  can  he 
imagined  in  any  city  of  Orient  or  sunset,  from  the  strange 
commingling  of  races,  nations,  costumes,  and  animals. 
The  great  modern  institution  of  Egypt  is  the  donkey,  es- 
pecially to  American  eyes. 

The  Egyptian  donkey  is  the  smallest  imaginable  animal 
of  the  species.  The  average  height  is  from  three  feet  and 
a half  to  four  feet,  though  large  numbers  of  them  are 
under  three  feet.  These  little  ’ fellows  carry  incredible 
loads,  and  apparently  with  ease.  In  the  square  w^ere 
scores  of  them.  Here  an  old  Turk,  fat  and  shaky,  his  feet 
reaching  to  within  six  inches  of  the  ground,  went  trotting 
across  the  square ; there  a dozen  half  naked  boys,  each 
perched  betw^een  tw^o  goat-skins  bf  water.  Four  or  five 
English  sailors,  full  of  w'onderment  at  the  novel  mode  of 
travel,  were  plunging  along  at  a fast  gallop,  and  got  foul 
of  the  old  Turk.  The  boys,  one  of  wdiom  always  follows 
his  donkey,  how'ever  swift  the  pace,  belaboring  him  with 
a stick,  and  ingeniously  poking  him  in  the  ribs  or  under 
the  saddle-strap,  commenced  beating  each  other.  Two 
ladies  and  two  gentlemen,  India  passengers,  taking  their 
first  donkey  ride,  became  entangled  in  the  group.  Twenty 


pompey’s  pi  llar. 


33 


long-legged,  single-sliirted rushed  up,  some  with 
donkeys  and  some  with  long  rods.  A row  of  camels 
stalked  slowly  by,  and  looked  with  quiet  eyes  at  the  in- 
creasing din;  and  when  the  confusion  seemed  to  be  inex- 
tricable, a splendid  carriage  dashed  up  the  square,  and 
fifty  yards  in  advance  of  it  ran,  at  all  the  speed  of  a swift 
horse,  an  elegantly-dressed  runner,  waving  his  silver  rod, 
and  shouting  to  make  way  for  the  high  and  mighty 
Somebody ; and  forthwith,  in  a twinkling,  the  mass  scat- 
tered in  every  direction,  and  the  square  was  free  again. 
The  old  Turk  ambled  along  his  way,  and  the  sailors  sur- 
rounded one  of  their  number  who  had  managed  to  lose  his 
seat  in  the  hubbub,  and  whose  curses  were  decidedly 
home-like. 

Xo  one  could  be  contented  in  Alexandria  more  than 
fifteen  minutes  without  going  to  Pompey’s  Pillar,  as  fame 
has  it,  or  the  Pillar  of  Diocletian,  as  it  is  now  more  fre- 
quently and  properly  called. 

Leaving  the  ladies  to  their  baths  and  a late  breakfast, 
we  mounted  donkeys  at  the  door,  and  being  joined  by  a 
half  dozen  English  officers  bound  to  India,  who  were  de- 
tained in  Alexandria  for  the  train  until  evening,  we  dashed 
OS'  up  the  square  at  a furious  gallop ; furious  in  appear- 
ance, but  the  rate  of  progress  was  about  equal  to  a slow 
trot  on  horseback.  Nevertheless,  a donkey  carrying  a 
heavy  American  on  his  back  has  some  momentum  when 
he  galloj^s,  as  the  guard  in  the  gateway  found  to  his  cost; 
for  he  was  dozing,  after  the  prescribed  manner  of  an 
Egyptian  noon-day  doze,  and  he  dreamed  that  he  heard 
the  Frenchmen  coming  again,  as  they  came  once  in  his 
time ; and  before  he  had  time  to  pick  up  his  scattered  in- 
tellect he  had  more  to  do  in  picking  up  himself,  for  we 
went  over  him  like  a thunder-storm,  rattling  on  the  draw- 
bridge, across  an  open  space,  through  another  gateway, 
across  another  draw-bridge,  and  so  out  into  a long,  broad 
2* 


34 


AN  ARAB  GIRL. 


street,  on  each  side  of  Avliich  was  a row  of  acacia  trees 
(known  as  the  sont),  and  so  to  a hill  that  overlooks  the 
city  and  the  harbor,  on  which  stands  this  solitary  column, 
the  lonesome  relic  of  unknown  grandeur.  Of  what  it 
formed  a part,  whether  of  the  great  library,  or  of  some 
gorgeous  temple,  no  one  knows. 

'SVe  sat  down  in  the  dust  and  looked  up  at  its  massive 
proportions,  and  admired  and  wondered,  as  hundreds  of 
thousands  have  looked  and  admired  in  past  years,  and 
commented  as  they  had,  and  dreamed  as  they  had. 

Shall  I confess  it  ? There  was  an  Arab  girl,  Avho  came 
from  a mud  village  close  by,  and  who  stood  at  a little 
distance  gazing  at  us,  whose  face  attracted  more  of  my 
attention  than  this  mysterious  column,  in  whose  shade  I 
sat.  She  was  tall,  slender,  graceful  as  a deer,  and  her 
face  exceedingly  beautiful.  She  was  not  more  than  four- 
teen. She  was  dressed  in  the  style  of  the  country;  a 
single  blue  cotton  shirt.  As  it  was  a female  who  wore  it, 
perhaps  it  deserves  another  name  ; but  that  will  answer, 
since  the  sex  did  not  vary  the  pattern.  It  was  open  from 
the  neck  to  the  waist,  exposing  the  bust,  and  it  reached 
but  to  her  knees.  She  stood  erect,  with  a proud  uplifted 
head,  and  to  my  imagination  she  answered  well  for  a per- 
sonification of  the  angel  of  the  degraded  country  in  w^hich 
I found  myself.  The  ancient  glory  was  here,  but,  clothed 
in  the  garb  of  poverty,  she  was  reduced  to  be  an  out- 
cast among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

As  I sat  on  the  sand  and  looked  at  her,  I put  out  my 
hand  to  support  myself,  and  it  fell  on  a skull.  Bones, 
whether  of  ancient  or  modern  Egyptians  I knew  not 
then,  lay  scattered  around. 

When  I would  have  apostrophised  the  brown  angel,  she 
started  in  afi:right,  and  vanished  in  a hut  built  of  most 
unromantic  materials,  such,  indeed,  as  lay  sun-drying  all 
around  us.  It  was  gathered  in  the  streets,  and  dried 


A MAGIC  WORD. 


35 


in  cakes,  w*liicii  served  the  purpose  of  fuel,  and  occasion- 
ally of  house  building.  Six  naked  children  of  eight  years 
old  and  under  remained.  No  imagination  could  make 
them  other  than  the  filthy  wretches  they  were.  Here  we 
learned  the  sound  of  that  word  which  is  omnipotent  in 
Turkish  lands,  and  which  travelers  now  too  much  ridicule, 
as  if  its  benefits  belonged  to  the  beggar. 

Before  the  gate  of  El  Azhar,  in  Cairo,  I wdiispered  it  in 
the  ear  of  the  Sheik,  and  it  opened  the  old  college  to  my 
profane  feet.  At  the  mosque  of  Machpelah,  in  Hebron, 
I said  “ Bucksheesli”  to  the  venerable  guardian  of  the 
place,  and  though  five  hundred  howling  Arabs  were  out- 
side the  door  shouting  for  him  to  bring  me  out  to  them, 
lie  said : “ Come  in  the  uight,  Avhen  these  dogs  are  sleep- 
ing, and  I will  show  you  the  tomb  of  Ibrahim.”  I sent  it 
by  my  dragoman  to  the  Bim-pasha  of  Jerusalem,  and  he 
gave  me  fifty  soldiers,  and  marched  me  through  every 
corner  of  the  mosque  of  Omar,  or  the  Mesjid  El  Aksa. 

It  is  a magic  word,  of  value  to  be  known : spoken  in- 
terrogatively, it  is  offensive;  spoken  suggestively,  it  is 
powerful.  If  you  doubt  it,  try  it,  as  I have. 

I have  said  that  I did  not  sleep  on  board  the  ship  the 
night  before.  Neither  did  I sleep  on  shore  the  first  night 
in  Egypt.  But  the  cause  of  my  wakefulness  was  difier- 
ent.  Dogs  abound  in  the  city  of  the  son  of  Philip.  They 
have  no  special  owners,  and  are  a sort  of  public  property, 
always  respected.  But  such  infernal  dog-fights  as  oc- 
curred once  an  hour  under  our  windows  no  one  elsewhere 
has  known  or  heard  of.  I counted  fifteen  dogs  in  one 
melee  the  first  evening,  each  fighting,  like  an  Irishman  in 
a fair,  on  his  own  account. 

Besides  this,  the  watchmen  of  the  city  are  a nuisance. 
There  are  a large  number  of  them,  and  some  twenty  are 
stationed  in  and  around  the  grand  square.  Every  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  the  chief  of  a division  enters  the  square 


36 


NIGHT  NUISANCES. 


and  shouts  his  call,  which  is  a prolonged  cry,  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  his  breath.  As  he  commences,  each 
watchman  springs  into  the  square ; and  by  the  time  he 
has  exhausted  his  breath  they  take  up  the  same  shout  in 
a body,  and  reply.  He  repeats  it,  and  they  again  reply  ; 
and  all  is  then  still  for  fifteen  minutes.  But  as  if  this 
Avere  not  enough,  there  v/as  a tall  gaunt  fellow,  Avho  had 
once  been  a dragoman,  but  Aims  a poor  and  drunken  dog 
now,  and,  in  fact,  crazy  from  bad  habits,  aa^Iio  slept  some- 
AA^here  in  the  square  eA^ery  night,  and  AA’ho  in\^ariably 
echoed  the  AA^atchmen  AAuth  a yell  that  rang  doAAT)  the 
square,  in  unmistakable  English,  “ all  right and  once  I 
heard  him  add,  in  the  same  tremendous  tones,  “ Damn 
the  rascals !” 

And  just  before  the  daAAm,  AAdien  the  law  of  Mohammed 
prescribed  it,  at  that  moment  that  a man  could  distinguish 
betvA^een  a white  thread  and  a black,  there  Avas  a sound 
Avhich  noAV  came  to  my  ears  Avuth  a SAV^eetness  that  I can 
not  find  AAmrds  to  express.  In  a moment  of  the  utmost 
stillness,  AA^hen  all  the  earth,  and  air,  and  sky  AA’as  calm 
and  peaceful,  a Amice  fell  through  the  solemn  night,  clear, 
rich,  prolonged,  but  in  a tone  of  rare  melody  that  thrilled 
through  my  ears,  and  I needed  no  one  to  tell  me  that  it 
AA’as  the  muezzin’s  call  to  prayer.  “ There  is  no  God  but 
God !”  said  the  Amice,  in  the  AAmrds  of  the  Book  of  the 
LaAv  gi\mn  on  the  mountain  of  fire,  and  our  hearts  an- 
SAvered  the  call  to  pray. 

My  first  business  in  Alexandria  AAms  to  get  on  shore, 
from  the  steamer,  the  Amrious  articles  Avhich  Ave  had  pur- 
chased at  Marseilles  and  Malta  for  a Avinter  on  the 
Nile.  One  of  these,  a cask  of  Marsala  Avine — Wood- 
house’s  best — must  necessarily  pass  through  the  custom- 
house, and  I wms  not  sorry  to  haAm  an  opportunity  of 
AAutnessing  the  fashion  of  collecting  the  revenue  of  the 
Viceroy  of  Egypt.  The  cask  had  been  landed  from  the 


EGYPTIAN  CUSTOM-HOUSE.  37 

Kubia^  and,  as  all  the  other  goods  here  landed,  was  in 
the  public  stores  of  the  custom-house.  Business  is  trans- 
acted in  Arabic  or  Italian,  or  in  the  mixed  Arabic  and 
Italian  which  forms  the  Maltese.  We — that  is,  Trumbull 
and  I,  accompanied  by  a servant  and  interpreter — went 
first  to  look  for  the  wine.  Having  found  it,  I was 
amused  at  the  simple  fashion  of  getting  it  through  the 
business  which,  in  other  countries,  is  made  so  needlessly 
tedious. 

A tall  Nubian,  black  as  night,  looked  at  the  barrel, 
weighed  it  with  his  eye  (it  was  over  two  hundred 
weight),  twisted  a cord  around  it,  and  wound  the  cord 
around  his  head,  taking  the  strain  on  his  forehead,  and 
then,  with  a swing  of  his  giant  body,  he  had  it  on  his 
back,  and  followed  us  to  the  inspector.  This  gentleman, 
an  old  Turk,  with  a beard  not  quite  as  heavy  as  my  ovrn, 
but  much  more  gray,  addressed  us  very  pleasantly  in 
Italian,  and  passed  us  along  to  his  clerk,  who  sat  by  his 
side,  each  with  his  legs  invisible  under  him.  The  proper 
certificate  of  the  contents  was  here  made,  and  sealed — 
ibr  a Turk  or  Copt  never  writes  his  name,  impressing  it 
on  the  paper  with  ink  on  a seal — and  the  black  carried 
the  wine  to  the  scales  to  be  weighed.  This  was  done  in 
an  instant,  the  weight  noted,  and  another  man  received 
the  duty,  whereupon  it  was  ready  to  be  carried  up  to  the 
hotel.  All  this  was  done  in  fifteen  minutes  or  less,  and 
the  majesty  of  the  viceroy  and  ourselves  were  equally 
well  satisfied. 

My  next  business  was  with  the  viceroy  himself,  and  its 
object  to  procure  a firman  which  should  enable  me  to 
make  excavations  among  the  ruins  of  Upper  Egypt.  Mr. 
De  Leon,  Avho  so  successfully  fills  the  post  of  American 
consul  in  Egypt,  was  absent  on  a visit  to  Greece.  This 
consulate  is  by  far  the  most  important  foreign  consular 
appointment  of  our  government,  since  it  amounts  to  a 


38 


A FIRMAN. 


Ohargesliip,  the  Egyptian  governraent  being,  in  all  com- 
mercial matters,  independent  of  the  Porte,  and  re- 
ceiving communications  through  the  consul  direct.  The 
power  of  this  functionary  is  absolutely  startling  to  an 
American,  who  suddenly  finds  himself  in  a land  w’here  he 
has  no  protection  from  the  government,  no  obedience  to 
render  to  it,  where  he  is  not  liable  to  punishment  for  any 
ofience  against  its  laws,  and  where,  in  fact,  he  may  com- 
mit wholesale  murder  wdth  no  penalty  other  than  being 
sent  out  of  the  country  by  the  American  consul.  I 
shall  speak  further  of  this  in  another  place,  and  I allude 
to  it  here  only  to  say  that  Mr.  De  Leon  is  most  remark- 
ably successful  in  his  difficult  and  responsible  position, 
having  secured  the  confidence  of  the  government,  and 
thus  enabled  himself  more  effectually  to  jorotect  travel- 
ers, who  find  themselves  in  constant  need  of  some  strong 
friend  to  appeal  to  the  government  in  their  aid. 

During  his  absence  the  seal  of  the  consulate  was  in  the 
custody  of  Mr.  Petersen,  the  vice-consul  of  Sweden  and 
Xorway,  and  I take  this  opportunity  of  exj)ressing  my 
thanks  to  him  for  his  unremitting  kindness  and  attention 
to  us  during  our  stay  in  Alexandria. 

On  my  representing  to  him  my  wishes,  and  j>resenting 
the  papers  on  which  I relied  for  the  furtherance  of  my 
application,  he  went  immediately  to  the  viceroy,  and 
within  the  forenoon  of  the  day  sent  to  me  the  desired 
paper,  which  was  a letter  directed  to  Latif  Pasha,  governor 
of  Upper  Egypt  and  Lower  Xubia,  resident  at  Es  Siout, 
requiring  him  to  furnish  me  with  all  necessary  papers  and 
assistance,  letters  to  inferior  governors  and  officers  of 
whatever  grade,  and  to  provide  men  and  beasts  as  I 
should  demand,  at  any  point  on  the  river. 

The  -cost  of  this  paper  was  a polite  “thank  you,” 
which  I repeat  here,  as  well  to  Mr.  Petersen  as  to 
the  Egyptian  government.  How  invaluable  it  afterward 


THE  ANCIENT  CITY. 


39 


proved  to  me  I shall  frequently  have  occasion  to  de- 
scribe. Without  reference  to  its  usefulness  for  the  im- 
mediate objects  of  my  visit  to  Egypt,  it  operated  as  an 
introduction  to  all  men  of  rank  in  the  upper  country, 
and  enabled  me  to  become  acquainted  with  some  whose 
friendship  is  among  the  pleasantest  recollections  of  my 
winter  on  the  Nile,  as  well  as  the  pleasantest  anticipa- 
tions of  a return. 

Alexandria  has  been  visited  by  many  travelers,  and  is 
described  in  all  the  books  on  Egypt,  but  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Pillar  of  Diocletian  (Pompey’s  Pillar)  and 
Cleopatra’s  Needles,  there  are  no  antiquities  which  have 
attracted  their  attention. 

The  modern  city  stands  on  a neck  of  land,  to  the  east- 
ward of  which  is  the  old  and  deserted  harbor,  and  on 
the  west  the  new,  and  rather  inaccessible,  but  safe  an- 
chorage in  which  vessels  of  every  nation  are  found.  As 
a port,  it  is  one  of  the  most  important  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean, especially  as  the  western  terminus  of  the  Suez 
railway,  which  is  soon  to  be  completed  across  the  isth- 
mus ; and  which  renders  the  proposed  canal,  across  the 
isthmus,  more  than  ever  undesirable.  The  chief  trade 
of  the  port  is  in  coals  from  England,  and  grain  and  cot- 
ton thither. 

But  around  modern  Alexandria,  in  all  directions,  lie 
mounds  of  yellow  dust  and  sand,  destitute  of  the  slight- 
est vegetation,  and  burning  in  the  hot  sun.  Under 
these  mounds  lie  the  ruins  of  the  city  of  the  Ptolemies. 
Excavations  are  carried  on  continually,  but  only  to  ob- 
tain stone  for  building  purposes,  to  be  used  in  walls  or 
burned  for  lime.  No  investigations  have  been  made  by 
antiquarians,  as  yet,  among  these  hills,  where  there  is, 
without  doubt,  a rich  store  of  treasure  to  be  opened. 
Here,  indeed,  but  little  of  the  very  ancient  is  to  be  ex- 
pected. It  was  in  the  later  days  of  Egypt,  when  the 


40 


CATACOMBS. 


Pharaohs  had  been  succeeded  by  the  Ptolemies,  when 
Memphis  was  old,  and  Thebes  was  crumbling  into  ruin, 
that  the  Alexandrian  splendor  filled  the  eastern,  though 
it  was  then  called  the  Avestern,  Avorld. 

I had  no  desire  to  spend  time  or  money  here,  further 
than  to  take  one  step  backAvard  in  time  before  I found 
myself  treading  the  halls  of  Remeses. 

The  Pillar  of  Diocletian  I haA^e  already  mentioned. 
The  Needles  of  Cleopatra,  as  they  liaA^e  been  long  called, 
are*  in  their  old  sites,  one  standing  erect  where  the  spray 
of  the  sea  washes  OA^er  it,  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city, 
the  other  lying  on  the  ground,  almost  under  ground  in- 
deed, near  it.  But  not  being  in  their  original  positions, 
having  been  brought  here  in  Roman  times,  they  possess 
but  little  more  interest  than  that  at  Paris,  scarcely  so 
much  as  those  at  Rome. 

The  Baths  of  Cleopatra,  as  they  are  called,  ancient 
tombs  open  and  partially  sunken  in  the  sea,  on  the  Avest 
side  of  the  city,  are  interesting  only  as  deserted  tombs, 
Avithout  name  or  mark.  Having  visited  these,  Ave  sup- 
posed the  antiquities  of  Alexandria  Avere  “ done.” 

But  the  Maltese  Abrams^  Avhom  I have  mentioned,  and 
Avhom  I recommend  as  a capital  servant,  told  us  of  cer- 
tain catacombs  that  he  knew  of,  three  miles  east  of  the 
city  on  the  sea  shore,  Avhere  the  natives  Avere  digging 
lime-stone  for  building  purposes  and  for  burning.  Ac- 
cordingly Ave  rode  out  one  day  to  look  at  them. 

It  proved  a fortunate  discovery,  especially  as  on  my  re- 
turn to  Alexandria  I found  that  these  catacombs  were  en- 
tirely dug  aAvay  and  all  appearance  of  them  had  vanished, 
although  there  remain  doubtless  many  tombs  under  the 
ground  never  yet  reached,  for  future  explorers  to  open. 

We  AA^ere  no  novices  in  donkey-riding  by  this  time; 
you  AA’ould  have  supposed  that  Ave  Avere  used  to  riding 
them  all  our  lives,  had  you  seen  the  four  Avhich  Ave  mount- 


A NECROPOLIS. 


41 


ed,  and  the  speed  at  which  we  dashed  down  the  long 
street  that  leads  to  the  Rosetta  gate,  followed  by  our 
four  boys,  shouting  and  screaming  to  the  groups  of  people 
walking  before  us.  We  raised  a cloud  of  dust  all  the 
way,  and  elicited  not  a few  Mohammedan  curses  from 
women  with  vailed  faces,  whose  black  eyes  flashed  con- 
tempt on  the  bare  faces  of  Amy  and  Miriam.  Xow 
working  to  windward  of  a long  row  of  camels  laden  with 
stone,  now  to  leeward  of  a gathering  of  women  around  a 
fruit-stall,  now  passing  a funeral  procession  that  went 
chanting  their  songs  along  the  middle  of  the  way — we 
dashed,  in  a confused  heap,  donkeys  and  boys,  through 
the  arched  gateway,  to  the  terror  of  the  Pasha’s  soldiers 
who  sat  smoking  under  the  shade,  and  who  had  heard 
doubtless  of  our  victory  over  the  guard  on  the  first  day, 
across  the  draw-bridge  with  a thunder  that  you  would 
not  have  believed  the  donkey’s  hoof  could  have  extracted 
from  the  plank,  through  the  second  arch,  and  out  into  the 
desolate  tract  of  land,  without  grass,  or  tree,  or  living 
object  for  miles,  where  once  stood  the  palaces  of  the  city 
of  Cleopatra. 

Winding  our  way  over  the  mounds  of  earth  that  con- 
cealed the  ruins,  catching  sight  here  and  there  of  a pro- 
jecting cornice,  a capital,  or  a slab  of  polished  stone,  we 
at  length  descended  to  the  shore  at  the  place  where  the 
men  were  now  engaged  in  digging  out  stone  for  lime  and 
buildings  in  the  modern  city. 

Formerly  the  shore  for  a mile  or  more  must  have  been 
bordered  by  a great  necropolis,  all  cut  in  solid  rock. 
During  a thousand  years  the  entire  shore  has  sunk,  I 
have  no  means  of  estimating  how  much,  but  not  less  than 
thirty  feet,  as  I judge  from  a rough  observation  ; it  may 
have  been  fifty,  or  even  more.  By  this  many  of  the  rock- 
hewn  tombs  have  been  submerged  entirely,  and  those  on 
shore  have  been  depressed,  and  many  of  them  thrown  out 


42 


OPENING  OLD  TOMBS. 


of  perpendicular,  wliile  the  rock  has  been  cracked,  and 
sand  has  filled  the  subterranean  chambers.  Of  the  period 
at  which  these  tombs  were  commenced  we  have  no  means 
now  of  judging.  It  is  sufficiently  manifest,  however,  that 
they  have  served  the  purposes  of  successive  generations 
of  nations,  if  I may  use  the  exj^ression ; and  have  in  turn 
held  Egyptians,  who  were  removed  to  make  room  for 
Romans,  who  themselves  slept  only  until  the  Saracens 
needed  places  for  their  long  sleep. 

Already  great  numbers  of  tombs  had  been  opened  and 
their  contents  scattered.  The  fellaheen  who  vrere  at  work 
proceeded  rapidly  in  their  Vandalish  business.  Some  long 
corridors  stood  open  in  the  white  limestone  of  the  hill, 
and  broken  pottery  and  innumerable  bones  lay  scattered 
around.-  An  afternoon  was  consumed  in  the  first  mere  look- 
ing at  these  catacombs.  Returning  the  next  morning,  we 
selected  a spot  where  the  workmen  had  gone  deepest, 
and  hired  a dozen  men  to  work  under  our  direction. 
Miriam  and  Amy  sat  in  a niche  of  an  open  tomb,  shaded 
from  the  sun,  and  looking  out  at  the  sea,  which  broke 
with  a grand  surf  at  their  very  feet. 

After  breaking  into  three  in  succession  of  the  unopened 
niches,  we  at  length  struck  on  one  which  had  evidently 
escaped  Saracen  invasion.  It  was  in  the  loAvest  tier  of 
three  on  the  side  of  an  arched  chamber,  protected  by  a 
heavy  stone  slab  inlaid  in  cement.  It  required  gunpow- 
der to  start  it.  The  tomb  was  about  two  feet  six  inches 
Avide  by  the  same  height,  and  extended  seven  feet  into, 
the  rock.  The  others  on  all  sides  of  the  room  Avere  of 
the  same  dimensions.  There  Avere  in  all  tAventy-four. 

opening  this  and  entering  it,  Ave  found  a skeleton 
lying  at  full  length,  in  remarkable  preservation,  evidently 
that  of  a man  in  the  prime  of  life.  At  his  head  stood  an 
alabaster  \-ase,  plainly  but  beautifully  cut,  in  perfect  pre- 
servation, and  as  pure  and  Avhite  as  if  carved  but  yester- 


FUNEREAL  VASES. 


43 


day.  The  height  of  the  vase  ia.  seventeen  and  a half 
inches,  the  greatest  diameter  nine  and  a half  inches. 

It  consisted  of  four  different  pieces — the  pedestal,  the 
main  part  of  the  vase,  the  cover,  and  the  small  knob  or 
handle  on  the  top ; not  broken  but  so  cut  originally. 

This  vase  Mr.  Trumbull  subsequently  shipped  to  Amer- 
ica, where  I am  happy  to  say  it  arrived  safely.  (The  cut 
at  the  end  of  this  chapter  exhibits  the  form  of  this  vase.) 

Pursuing  our  success,  we  removed  the  bone^  of  the 
dead  man,  reservmg  only  a few  to  go  with  the  vase,  and 
then  searched  carefully  the  floor  of  the  tomb,  which  was 


UAETITEN  VASE  FOUND  AT  ALEXANDRIA. 


covered  with  fine  dust  and  sand.  Here  we  at  length  hit 
on  the  top  of  another  vase  ; and  after  an  hour  of  careful 
and  diligent  work,  we  took  out  from  a deep  sunk  hole  in 
the  rock,  scarcely  larger  than  itself,  an  Etruscan  vase, 
which  on  opening  we  found  to  contain  burned  bones  and 


44 


A PAINTED  TOMB. 


ashes,  as  fresh  in  appearance  as  if  but  yesterday  de- 
130sited. 

This  vase  or  urn  is  fifteen  inches  high,  and  its  largest 
diameter  is  eleven  inches.  It  is  of  fine  earthenware  orna- 
mented with  flowers  and  devices. 

This  vase  was  too  fragile  to  attempt  to  send  to  Amer- 
ica, and  I left  it  with  Mr.  De  Leon.  The  reader  will  ob- 
serve the  peculiar  position  of  this  vase,  in  the  bottom  of  a 
tomb  under  the  bones  of  a dead  man.  There  was  another 
similar  hole  in  the  same  tomb,  but  no  vase  in  it.  In  the 
bottom  of  another  tomb  we  found  another  alabaster  urn 
similarly  sunken.  It  was  of  ungraceful  sha^re,  being 
simply  a tub  with  a cover. 

In  one  of  the  lowest  excavations  we  found  a tomb 
which  was  painted  in  ancient  Egyptian  style,  but  it  was 
so  filled  with  damp  sand  that  nothing  remained  of  the 
paintings  except  near  the  roof  which  was  arched  and 
plastered.  There  was  nothing  to  indicate  the  period  of 
its  occupation,  but  it  is  interesting  as  being  the  only  tomb 
I have  ever  heard  of  as  discovered  at  Alexandria  which 
was  of  ancient  Egyptian  character.  All  the  sarcophagi 
and  tombs  hitherto  found  here  have  been  considered  of 
Greek  or  Koman  period.  This,  however,  was  unmistaka- 
ble, the  heads  and  ujDper  parts  of  the  figures  being  as 
brilliant  and  fresh  as  the  tombs  at  Thebes.  Being  on  a 
much  lower  level  than  any  other  that  we  penetrated,  it 
was  possibly  of  ante-Greek  times  ; but  it  may  have  been 
the  tomb  of  an  Egyptian  who  retained  ancient  customs 
after  Greek  dates. 

With  this  we  finished  our  day’s  labor,  then  strolled 
along  the  shore,  and  looked  at  the  gorgeous  sunset,  right 
over  the  Pharos,  and  then  mounting  our  donkeys,  and  car- 
rying our  vases  and  sundry  pieces  of  broken  pottery  in  our 
hands,  we  rode  slowly  into  the  city.  I wondered  whether 
the  old  Greek  or  Roman  whose  burned  bones  I was  shak- 


AN  ACCIDENT. 


45 


ing  about  in  the  vase  on  the  pommel  of  my  donkey-saddle 
had  any  idea  of  the  curious  resurrection  he  was  under- 
going in  modern  Iskandereyeh,  or  whether  it  disturbed 
him  beyond  the  Styx  when  I shook  out  his  ashes  on  a copy 
of  the  London  Times  spread  on  the  floor  of  Caesar  Tor- 
tilla’s Hotel  d’Europe.  Caesar  is  a good  fellow  by-the-by, 
and  his  hotel  admirable  for  the  East. 

The  next  morning  we  were  up  and  away  at  an  earlier 
hour,  but  fearing  to  fatigue  the  ladies  too  much  by  a sec- 
ond long  ride,  we  took  a carriage  to  drive  out  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  catacombs.  It  was  not  the  Oriental  fash- 
ion. We  had  no  right  to  try  it.  The  driver  said  he  could 
do  it  easily,  he  had  done  it  before,  and  lied  like  an  Italian 
about  it,  so  that  we  trusted  him.  We  had  hardly  gone 
out  of  the  Rosetta  gate,  and  turned  up  the  first  hill  over 
the  ruins  of  the  ancient  city,  wLen  one  of  the  horses 
baulked,  and  the  carriage  began  backing,  but  instead  of 
backing  straight,  the  forewheels  cramped,  and  the  first 
plunge  of  the  baulky  horse  forward  took  him  and  us  over 
the  side  of  the  bank  and  down  a steep  descent  into  an  ex- 
cavation. The  pole  of  the  carriage  snaj^ped  short  off*,  the 
other  horse,  dragged  into  the  scrape  by  his  companion,  fell 
down,  and  the  carriage  ran  directly  over  him,  and  rested 
on  his  body.  The  ladies  sprang  out  as  it  stopped,  and  we 
all  reached  the  ground  safely ; but  there  was  another  ruin 
on  the  top  of  the  old  ruins.  It  was,  in  point  of  fact,  what 
we  call  in  America  a total  smash,  and  we  sent  back  for 
donkeys,  while  we  amused  ourselves  with  wandering  over 
the  site  of  the  old  city. 

This  day  I determined  to  go  deeper  into  the  vaults 
of  the  catacombs,  if  possible,  than  before,  and  I com- 
menced on  the  side  of  the  sea  in  the  room  that  was 
painted  in  the  brilliant  colors  of  the  Egyptians.  Setting 
my  men  at  work  here  by  the  light  of  candles,  I was  not 
long  in  penetrating  the  bottom  of  the  chamber  by  a hole 


46 


A SEPULCHRAL  CHAMBER. 


which  o]3cned  into  the  roof  of  a similar  room  below’.  I 
thrust  myself  through  the  hole  as  rapidly  as  possible,  but 
found  that  the  earth  had  filled  it  to  within  three  feet  of 
the  top.  Tw’O  hours’  work  cleared  it  out ; but  I found 
nothing,  for  the  dampness  of  the  sea  had  reached  it,  and 
all  was  destroyed  except  the  solid  walls. 

A few  moments  later  one  of  the  men  came  to  tell  me 
that  they  had  opened  a new  gallery  of  tombs,  and  I has- 
tened to  see  it.  Though  not  what  I expected  from  their 
description,  it  was  sufficiently  strange  to  be  worth  exam- 
ining. 

Crawding  on  my  hands  and  knees  about  tw’enty  feet 
through  an  arched  passage  cut  in  the  stone,  and  measur- 
mg  thifty-twm  inches  in  wddth  by  thirty-six  in  height 
at  the  centre,  I found  myself  in  a chamber  twenty-one  feet 
long  by  fifteen  broad.  The  roof  w^as  a plain  arch.  Its 
height  it  W’as  impossible  to  tell,  for  the  earth  had  sifted 
into  it  through  huge  fissures  in  the  rock,  and  by  the  slow 
accumulation  of  two  thousand  years  or  less,  had  filled  it 
on  one  side  to  wdthin  eight  feet  of  the  roof.  But  the 
earth  had  come  in  only  on  that  side,  and  had  run  down  in 
a steep  slope  tow’ard  the  other  side,  which  was  not  so  full 
by  fifteen  feet.  N"evertheless  there  was  no  floor  visible 
there,  but  the  low’est  stones  in  that  W’all  W’ere  huge  slabs 
of  granite,  and  on  digging  dowm  I could  see  that  the  slope 
of  the  earth  ran  under  them,  into  wdiat  I have  no  doubt 
was  a stone  staircase,  arched  with  granite,  leading  dowm 
into  the  catacombs  below.  The  room  w-as  plastered  plainly 
with  a smooth  wdiitish-gray  plaster  on  three  sides.  The 
fourth  side,  that  over  the  granite  stairw^ay,  and,  as  I have 
explained,  the  side  wdiere  the  earth  was  lowest,  was  solid 
rock,  -with  tw’O  immense  shelves  of  rock,  one  six  feet  above 
the  other,  left  there  in  the  excavation,  and  evidently  in- 
tended as  places  on  w’hich  to  stand  funeral  urns  and  vases. 
But  wdiat  struck  me  as  most  remarkable,  Avas  that  a rough 


DEAD  MEN’S  COUCHES. 


47 


projecting  cornice  was  left  across  the  chamber,  corres- 
ponding with  the  fronts  of  the  shelves,,  in  which  were  five 
immense  iron  nails,  or  spikes,  with  heads  measuring  two 
inches  across.  The  heads  of  but  two  were  left,  the  others 


TOilB  IN  THE  CATACOMBS  OF  ALEXANDEIA. 


having  rusted  off.  I could  not  imagine  any  object  to 
which  these  nails  were  applied,  unless  to  hold  planks 
which  may  at  some  time  have  covered  these  shelves. 

Upon  the  shelves  were  lying  masses  of  broken  pottery 
and  vases ; but  nothing  perfect  or  valuable.  I then  pro- 
ceeded to  strike  the  plastered  walls  with  my  hammer,  and 
at  length  found  a place  that  sounded  hollow.  Two  fel- 
laheen went  to  work  instantly,  and  soon  opened  a niche 
which  had  been  walled  up  and  plastered  over.  It  was  in 
the  usual  shape,  two  feet  eight  inches  wide,  by  three  feet 
high  in  the  centre,  and  seven  feet  deep.  In  it  lay  a skel- 
eton and  the  dust  of  a dead  man,  nothing  more.  I pro- 
ceeded, and  in  an  hour  I had  opened  twelve  similar  niches, 
or  openings,  some  larger,  and  containing  as  many  as  three 


48 


DUST  TO  DUST. 


skeletons  each.  It  was  a strange  sensation  that  of  crawl- 
ing into  these  resting-places  of  the  dead  of  long  ago  on 
my  hands  and  knees,  feeling  the  soft  and  moss-like  crush 
of  the  bones  under  me,  and  digging  with  my  fingers  in 
the  dust  for  memorials  of  its  life  and  activity.  My. clothes, 
my  eyes,  my  throat,  were  covered  and  filled  with  the  fine 
dust  of  the  dead,  and  I came  out  at  length  more  of  an 
ancient  than  modern  in  external  appearance. 

During  the  process  of  my  investigations  the  passage- 
way by  which  we  had  entered  was  darkened,  and  I soon 
saw  Miriam  on  her  hands  and  knees,  guided  by  an  Egypt- 
ian boy,  creeping  into  the  cavern  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  Having  opened  all  of  three- tiers  of  graves  that  were 
above  ground,  I found  between  the  tops  of  the  niches 
smaller  niches,  plastered  over  like  the  others,  and  con- 
taining broken  urns  and  the  remains  of  burned  bones.  I 
found  nothing  in  all  this  gloomy  series  of  graves  but  a few 
lamps  of  earthenware,  blackened  about  the  hole  for  the 
wick,  sad  emblems  of  departed  light  and  life. 

We  came  out  from  the  vaults  and  walked  down  to  the 
beach,  where  the  cool  wind  revived  us.  Four  hundred 
feet  from  the  shore  was  a curious  rocky  island.  Trumbull 
and  myself  went  out  to  it.  It  was  full  of  open  tombs,  a 
part  of  the  great  necropolis  sunken  in  the  sea,  and  all  the 
way  from  the  shore  we  found  traces  of  the  same  great 
burial-place. 

We  left  the  catacombs  again  at  sunset,  and  rode  homo 
slowly  over  the  hills.  As  we  entered  the  gate  of  the 
city  we  met  a marriage  procession,  the  bride  surrounded 
by  her  female  friends  on  the  way  to  her  husband’s  house. 
She  carried  on  her  head  a huge  box,  or  chest,  containing 
all  her  dower,  and  her  friends  shouted  and  sang  as  they 
passed  us.  We  quickened  our  speed  as  we  approached 
the  great  square,  and  dashed  up  to  the  door  of  the  hotel 
aC  a furious  gallop.  There  the  scene  in  the  evening  was 


HOTEL  DEUROPE. 


49 


always  the  same.  A crowd  of  donkey  boys  quarreling 
with  their  employers  for  extra  fees,  shouts,  curses  in 
countless  languages,  a perfect  Babel  of  tongues,  from 
which  it  was  a pleasure  to  escape  to  the  cheerful  dining- 
room and  the  capital  dinners  that  we  always  found  there. 


Alexandria,  or  Iskandereyeh,  will  amply  repay  the 
traveler  who  visits  it  and  goes  no  further.  To  find  him- 
self in  the  land  of  bananas  and  palms,  of  prickly  pears, 
and  almonds,  and  oranges,  is  enough  alone  to  make  the 
trip  across  the  Mediterranean  worth  while,  and  to  this  is 
added  the  immediate  association  with  the  East,  and  the 
intermixture  of  the  oriental  with  the  western,  which  is 
sufiiciently  amusing  to  repay  one  for  a week  of  sea-sick- 
ness. Beside  all  this  he  is  in  the  old  world  here — the 
older  world  than  Greece  and  Borne — for  it  is  undeniable 
that,  long  before  this  city  of  Alexandria  was  adopted  by 
the  Greeks,  there  was  a powerful  and  opulent  city  of  the 
Egyptians  on  this  ground ; and,  underneath  the  momids 
around  it,  lie  the  remains  of  men  and  their  achievements, 
not  alone  of  the  centuries  immediately  prior  to  the 
Christian  era,  but  of  the  far  remote  ages  of  which  Ave 
can  only  hope  to  know  the  faintest  outlines  of  history. 

Perhaps,  hereafter,  some  excavator,  more  fortunate 
than  I,  may  find  in  Alexandrian  catacombs  the  history 
of  Hhacotis^  the  city  which  preceded  Alexandria. 

My  time  here  AAvas  limited  by  engagements  at  Cairo. 
To  the  traveler  Avho  vfishes  to  see  only  the  external  ap- 
pearance of  things,  or  to  look  only  at  the  ground  which 
OA^erlies  old  cities,  or  on  Avhich  they  once  stood,  one  or 


THE  DEATH  LAMP. 


51 


two  days  will  suffice,  as  well  as  a month  or  a year,  to  see 
the  city  of  the  Ptolemies.  But  we  caught  ourselves 
often  standing  for  an  hour  before  a modern  Egyptian 
house,  in  the  wall  of  which  was  worked  a piece  of  old 
marble,  whose  exquisite  carving  and  polish  proved  it  to 
be  a part  of  the  old  city ; possibly  from  the  pediment  of  a 
temple ; possibly  from  the  boudoir  of  a lady ; possibly 
from  the  throne-chamber  of  a king.  To  me  Alexandria 
was  deeply  interesting.  Conjecture — or,  if  you  prefer 
the  phrase,  imagination — was  never  idle  as  I passed 
along  the  streets  of  the  modern  city,  or  over  the  mounds 
that  cover  the  ancient.  It  was  most  active  in  the  tombs, 
where  we  found  the  ashes  of  the  men  of  Alexandria  of 
all  periods  in  its  eventful  history,  and  the  memorials  of 
their  lives  and  deaths. 

There  was  one  small  earthen  lamp,  one  of  a dozen  which 
we  found  in  the  catacombs,  all  alike  in  general  form,  and 
every  one  blackened  about  the  opening  for  the  wick, 
with  the  smoke  of  the  last  flame  that  went  out  in  the 
closed  tomb. 

Over  that  lamp  I wasted,  if  you  choose  to  call  it  waste, 
many  hours  in  the  evening  and  night,  sitting  at  the  open 
window  of  my  room  on  the  grand  square,  and  listening 
to  the  cry  of  the  watchmen  and  the  call  of  the  muezzin 
at  the  late  hours  of  prayer.  There  was  nothing  pe- 
culiar about  it  except  a monogram  on  the  top.  It  was 
of  the  simplest  form  of  ancient  lamps,  with  a hole  for  the 
oil  and  a smaller  one  for  the  wick ; but  there  was  on  the 
surface  a cross,  on  one  arm  of  which  was  a semicircle 
rudely  forming  the  Greek  character  Bho^  the  cross  and 
the  letter  together  signifying  the  Xp,  the  familiar  ab- 
breviation of  the  name  of  our  Lord.  I know  not  how 
many  centuries  that  peaceful  slumberer  in  His  promises 
had  remained  undisturbed;  but  when  I saw  that  we  had 
broken  the  rest  of  one  who  slept  in  hope  of  the  resurrec- 


52 


SAINT  OR  MARTYR. 


tion,  that  we  had  rudely  scattered  on  the  winds  of  the  sea 
the  ashes  of  one  over  whom,  in  the  long  gone  years,  had 
been  read  the  sublime  words,  “I  am  the  resurrection 
and  the  life,”  perhaps  by  Cyril  the  great  bishop,  perhaps 
by  Mark  himself — when  I saw  those  crumbling  bones 
under  my  feet,  and  thought  in  what  strong  faith  that 
right  arm  had  been  lifted  to  heaven  in  the  hour  of  ex- 
tremity, I felt  that  it  was  sacrilege  to  have  opened  his 
tomb  and  disturbed  his  rest. 

True,  the  Arabs  would  have  reached  him  next  year ; 
but  I would  rather  it  had  been  the  Arabs  than  I.  True, 
he  who  promised  can  find  the  dust,  though  it  be  scat- 
tered on  the  deserts  of  Africa.  But  I have  a more  than 
Homan  veneration  for  the  rej^ose  of  the  dead ; and, 
though  I felt  no  compunctions  of  conscience  in  scatter- 
ing the  dust  of  the  Arabs,  who  had  themselves  robbed 
the  tombs  of  their  predecessors  to  make  room  for  them- 
selves, yet  I did  not  like  the  opening  of  that  quiet  place 
in  which  a Christian  of  the  early  days  was  buried. 

Who  was  he  ? Again  imagination  was  on  the  wing. 
He  was  one  of  those  who  had  heard  the  voices  of  the 
apostles;  he  was  one  of  those  who  had  seen  the  fierce 
faiih  of  the  martyrs  in  their  agony ; he  was  one  who  had 
himself  suffered  unto  death  for  the  love  of  his  Lord  and 
Master.  Or  possibly  that  were  too  wild  a fancy,  for  such 
a man  would  hardly  have  a tomb  lil^e  this.  If  so  it  were, 
they  must  have  buried  him  by  night,  with  no  torch,  no 
pomp,  no  light  save  the  dim  flickering  light  of  this  fu- 
nereal lamp  guiding  their  footsteps  down  the  corridors 
of  this  vast  city  of  the  dead ; and  this  they  left  beside 
him — sad  emblem  of  his  painful  life — the  light  of  faith, 
pure  though  faint,  in  the  darkness  that  was  all  around  him. 

Men  were  sublime  in  faith  in  those  days.  It  was  but 
as  yesterday,  to  them,  that  the  footsteps  of  their  Lord 
were  on  the  mountain  of  Ascension — it  was  but  as  yes- 


HAD  HE  SEEN  CHRIST? 


53 


terday  that  the  voice  of  Paul  was  heard  across  the  sea. 
Perhaps  those  dusty  fiogers  had  grasped  the  hand  that 
had  often  been  taken  lovingly  in  that  hand  which  the 
nail  pierced.  Perhaps — perhaps — I bowed  my  head  rev- 
erently as  the  thought  flashed  across  me — for  I do  rever- 
ence to  the  bones  of  the  great  dead,  and  though  I would 
not  worship,  yet  I would  enshrine  in  gold  and  diamonds 
a relic  of  a saint — perhaps,  in  some  far  wandering  from 
his  home,  this  man  had  entered  Jerusalem,  and  stood 
within  the  porch  of  the  temple  when  He  went  by  in  all 
the  majesty  of  his  lowliness. 

You  smile  at  the  wild  fancy.  Why  call  it  wild  ? Turn 
but  your  head  from  before  the  doorway  of  the  sepulchre, 
and  you  see  that  column,  at  the  foot  of  which  Mark 
taught  the  words  of  his  Lord  ; and  turn  again  to  yonder 
obelisk,  and  read  that  the  king,  who  knew  not  Joseph, 
but  whom  Moses  and  Aaron  knew,  carved  it  in  honor  of 
his  reign.  Why,  then,  may  not  this  tomb,  which  I have 
opened,  a hundred  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  hill,  con- 
tain the  dust  of  one  who  has  traveled  as  far  as  the  land 
•of  Judea,  only  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  ; who  had 
seen  the  visible  presence  of  him  whom  prophets  and 
kings  desired  to  see  ; and  who,  won  by  the  kingly  coun- 
tenance, the  holy  sweetness  of  that  face,  went  homeward, 
bearing  with  him  enough  of  memory  of  that  face  and 
voice  to  rejoice  at  the  coming  of  “John,  whose  surname 
was  Mark,”  and  to  listen  to  the  teaching  of  the  gospel 
of  the,  Messiah?  * 

It  startles  those  unused  to  Egyj^tian  antiquities  to  hear 
the  far  past  spoken  of  as  thus  present  with  us.  But  the 
facts  are  powerful  and  undeniable. 

One  grows  terribly  old  in  visiting  Egypt. 

It  is  a fact  little  thought  of,  scarcely  known  at  aU  out 
of  scientific  circles,  that  Colonel  Howard  Yyse,  the  emi- 
nent Englishman  whose  excavations  in  the  pyramids  at 


64 


KING  MYCERINUS. 


Ghizeh  and  Sakkarali  have  contributed  to  science  nearly 
all  that  we  know  concerning  those  stupendous  remains, 
found  in  the  third  pyramid  at  Ghizeh,  the  broken  coffin 
of  its  builder,  and  the  remains  of  a mummy,  bones  and 
flesh,  and  clothes,  that  we  have  every  reason  to  believe 
are  those  of  Mycerinus. 

Any  Englishman  strollmg  down  Regent  street  of  a 
winter  morning,  may  turn  aside  a few  blocks  and  look  in 
a glass  case,  m the  British  Museum,  on  those  bones  and 
sinews,  and  believe  with  reason  that  the  world  knew  no 
greater  monarch,  in  the  twenty-first  century  before  Christ, 
than  he  whose  dust  and  bones  lie  there  ! By  their  side, 
is  the  coffin  board  bearing  his  name,  and  we  know  from 
Herodotus,  that  his  period  was  long  before  the  date  of 
any  dynasty  that  we  can  connect  with  known  history. 

If,  then,  the  bones  of  the  almost  immediate  successor 
of  Cheops  are  in  a museum  in  England,  why  may  I not 
imagine  that  some  of  these  bones  in  Alexandria  were 
living  even  a few  brief  centuries  ago  ? 

The  inhabitants  of  modern  Alexandria  are  of  all  nations 
and  kinds-  Many  of  the  Europeans  are  wealthy,  and  live . 
in  considerable  style,  driving  handsome  equipages,  with 
elegantly-dressed  footmen  running  before  and  crying, 
“ Clear  the  way,”  in  the  day-time,  or  at  night  carrying 
huge  torches  made  by  burning  light-wood  in  an  iron 
frame  on  the  end  of  a pole,  and  technically  kno^vn  as 
MeshalJcs.  Much  business  is  done  here,  and  many  men 
are  employed  in  various  ways,  e^ning  the  low  wages  of 
the  Egy|3tian  fellaheen,  which  never  exceed  a piastre 
and  a half,  or  about  eight  cents  per  day.  The  large 
standing  army  of  Said  Pasha,  of  which  a considerable  de- 
tachment is  always  here,  is  necessarily  attended  by  the 
vrives  and  children  of  the  soldiers,  who  lounge  about  the 
streets,  especially  in  the  sunny  and  dusty  suburbs,  in  all 
stages  of  nakedness. 


FEMALE  MODESTY. 


55 


It  is  difficult  to  say  what  constitutes  poverty  in  Egypt. 
T7e  should  say,  were  they  in  America,  or  in  Europe,  that 
the  large  mass  of  inhabitants  were  in  squalid,  abject, 
hopeless  poverty.  But  on  examination  they  seem  fat, 
and  certainly  far  happier,  than  the  lower  classes  of  any 
other  nation  I have  seen,  and  this  when  (I  speak  literally 
now)  the  poverty  of  the  most  degraded,  begging  outcast 
in  New  York,  would  be  positive  wealth  to  them  here. 
One  solitary  ragged  shirt  is  the  sole  property,  the  entire 
furniture,  estate,  and  expectancy,  of  ninety-nine  out  of  a 
hundred  of  the  inhabitants  of  Egypt  in  the  cities  of  Alex- 
andria and  Cairo.  A man  and  his  wife,  or  his  two  or  more 
wives,  will  possess  a shirt  to  each,  and  a straw  mat,  old, 
worn,  and  muddy,  and  have  no  other  possession  on  earth 
except  naked  children  without  a rag  of  clothing. 

Nakedness  is  no  shame  here.  Children  up  to  ten  and 
twelve  years  of  age,  go  about  the  streets  with  either  one 
ragged,  filthy  cloth  wound  around  them,  or,  as  frequently, 
entirely  naked.  Groups  of  ten  or  a dozen  play  in  the  sun- 
shine here  and  there,  without  a rag  of  covering  from  head 
to  foot.  The  older  people  are  scarcely  more  clad.  A 
single  long  blue  shirt  suffices  for  a woman  of  any  ordinary 
class.  It  is  open  in  front  to  the  waist,  and  reaches  below 
the  knees.  A piece  of  the  same  cloth,  by  way  of  vail 
around  the  head,  is  the  substitute  for  the  elegant  head, 
coverings  of  the  wealthy  classes.  The  upper  part  of  the 
body  is,  of  course,  entirely  exposed,  and  no  one  seems  to 
think  of  covering  the  breast  from  sun,  wind,  or  eyes. 
The  face  is  usually  hidden  by  the  cloth  held  in  the  hand, 
while  the  entire  body  is  exposed  without  the  slightest 
attention  to  decency.  Not  unfrequently,  when  the  wo- 
man has  not  the  extra  covering  for  her  head,  she  will 
seize  and  lift  her  solitary  garment  to  hide  her  features, 
thereby  leaving  her  person  uncovered,  it  being  in  her 
view  a shame  only  to  exhibit  her  face. 


56 


STREET  COSTUMES. 


The  women  of  Egypt  are  by  nature  magnificently 
formed,  and  the  habit  of  carrying  burdens  on  their  heads 
gives  them  an  erect  shape  and  high  cast  of  the  head  which 
continues  to  extreme  old  age.  I never  saw  a bent  old 
woman.  I remember  seeing  one  woman  carrying  a small 
piece  of  bread  on  her  head  from  which  she  occasionally 
bit  a piece,  replacing  it  immediately  on  its  shelf,  and  Mr. 
Williams  of  the  Indian  Hotel,  in  Cairo,  told  me  that  he 
had  seen  a hawk  take  a piece  of  meat  from  the  head  of  a 
servant  as  she  was  carrying  it  home,  an  incident  that  re- 
minded me  forcibly  of  the  story  of  Saad  and  Saadi  in  the 
Arabian  Nights,  and  the  loss  of  the  turban. 

The  men  wear  whatever  they  possess  in  the  way  of 
cloth.  Doubtless  one  garment  lasts  a lifetime,  and  is 
ignorant  of  water  oftener  than  once  a year.  Their  cos- 
tume is  various.  Some  wear  the  single  shirt ; others,  a 
mass  of  dii’ty  cloth  wound  round  the  body,  neck,  and 
head  ; others,  a coarse  blanket  made  of  camel’s-hair,  which 
they  throw  rather  gracefully  over  their  shoulders,  leaving 
a corner  to  come  over  the  head.  The  costumes  vary  so 
much  that  I think  I counted  over  thirty  entirely  different 
and  distinct  styles  of  dress,  in  the  square,  in  Alexandria, 
before  my  windows,  at  one  time. 

These  remarks,  of  course,  are  understood  as  applying 
to  the  middle  and  lower  classes.  The  wealthy  Orientals 
wear  gorgeous  dresses.  The  men  usually  adopt  the 
Nizam  dress,  and  the  ladies  revel  in  silks  and  jewels  that 
would  craze  a New  York  belle. 

I obtained  admission  into  one  hareem,  of  which,  and 
the  splendor  of  the  dresses,  as  well  as  the  beauty  of  a 
Greek  girl  that  I saw  there,  I shall  speak  when  writing 
of  the  Holy  Land. 

The  railway  was  completed  only  to  Kafr-el-Aish,  on 
the  Nile,  and  thence  we  went  to  Cairo  by  steamboat. 
Constructed  by  English  engineers,  and  under  the  super- 


EGYPTIAN  RAILWAY. 


57 


intendence  of  a Scotch  gentleman,  I think  I am  safe  in 
saying  that  there  is  no  railway  in  America  so  complete, 
well  constructed,  and  safe  as  this  of  Egypt.  It  is  the 
private  property  of  the  viceroy,  and  with  this  fact  in 
view,  and  the  additional  fact  that  it  is  already  nearly 
complete  to  Suez,  capitalists  may  judge  how  probable  it 
is  that  Said  Pasha  is  sincere  in  forwarding  the  canal  pro- 
ject, which  would  cut  off  all  freight-travel  to  either  Cairo 
or  Alexandria.  I am  convinced  that  his  opinions  have 
been  misrepresented  to  induce  capitalists  to  embark  in 
the  scheme  of  the  Suez  ship-canal,  and  that  the  true  in- 
terests of  the  Egyptian  government  are  most  decidedly 
against  it.  . . 

It  was  somewhat  strange,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  to 
see  a train  of  cars,  surrounded  by  a hundred  guards  in 
turbans  and  tarbouches,  starting  out  of  a city  of  mud 
houses,  through  groves  of  palms  and  bananas,  winding 
it  way  around  the  Pillar  of  Diocletian  and  off  into  the 
dismal  waste  that  separates  Lake  Mareotis  from  the  sea. 
The  speed  was  at  first  but  sIoav,  even  slower  than  the 
usual  starting  rate  with  us  at  home ; but  on  reaching  the 
open  country  we  made  some  thirty  miles  an  hour  steadily 
until  we  came  to  Kafr-el-Aish,  which  was  then  the  ter- 
minus of  the  road  on  the  Rosetta  branch  of  the  Xile, 
eighty  miles  below  Cairo.  Here  we  were  transferred  to 
the  steamer  in  waiting  for  us,  the  first  and  second  class 
passengers  going  on  the  steamer,  and  the  third  class  tak- 
ing an  ordinary  river  boat,  which  was  to  be  towed  three 
hundred  feet  astern. 

It  was  impossible  to  get  up  any  enthusiasm  about  the 
Nile.  This  was  indeed  one  of  the  branches  of  the  great 
river,  but  only  one  of  them,  and  it  was  hardly  more  the 
Nile  than  was  the  Mahmoud  Canal  in  Alexandria,  Avhose 
waters  are  the  same.  The  stream  was  muddy,  flowing 
high  between  its  banks,  and  sometimes  overflowing  them, 

3^ 


68 


THE  NILE. 


and  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  admire  such  a mass  of 
mud.  The  hot  sun  shone  fiercely  on  it,  and  the  banks, 
uninteresting  in  all  respects,  seemed  to  be  broiling  out  a 
patient  existence,  while  here  and  there  a collection  of 
mud  huts,  bee-hive  like,  gave  the  sole  evidence  of  the  life 
of  man  in  the  Delta. 

As  the  sun  went  down,  the  deck  of  the  boat  began  to 
present  a strange  spectacle.  One  by  one  the  Mussulmans 
went  out  on  the  little  guard  behind  the  wheel-house  and 
performed  their  ablutions  in  the  j)rescribed  style,  and 
then  ascended  the  wheel-houses,  kitchens,  state-room 
decks,  and  every  other  elevated  place,  and  went  through 
the  postures  and  prayers.  It  was  certainly  curious  to 
see  a row  of  ten  or  fifteen  men  on  each  side  of  the  deck 
bowing  in  the  strange  but  graceful  forms  of  the  Moham- 
medan worship.  We  lay  and  looked  at  them  till  the 
evening  had  passed  into  night,  and  then  wrapping  our 
shawls  around  us,  slept  on  the  deck  till  roused  by  the 
passage  of  the  barrage. 

This,  it  is  not  necessary  to  explain,  is  the  magnificent 
stone  bridge  intended  to  operate  as  a dam,  which  Mo- 
hammed Ali  projected,  and  his  successors  have  continued 
to  its  present  state,  across  the  Nile,  at  the  point  of  the 
Delta  where  it  separates  into  different  mouths,  the  object 
being  to  raise  the  water  somewhat  higher  and  increase 
the  annual  inundation.  The  "vvild  appearance  of  the  stone 
jfiers,  between  which  we  passed,  lit  by  immense  torches 
of  blazing  wood,  and  swarming  with  half-naked  Arabs, 
whose  swarthy  countenances  glared  on  us  in  the  flicker- 
ing light  like  the  faces  of  so  many  fiends,  roused  us  from 
slumber;  but  we  relapsed  instantly  into  deeper  sleep, 
which  remained  unbroken  until  we  arrived  at  Boulak, 
the  port  of  the  modern  city,  and  thence  we  drove  swiftly, 
by  the  light  of  a torch  in  the  hands  of  a S'wift  runner,  up 
the  long  avenue  and  into  the  gate  of  the  Ezbekieh,  and 


SPECTRES  AND  ANGELS. 


59 


were  at  last  in  the  city  of  the  Mamelukes,  Cairo  the  Vic- 
torious, Cairo  the  Magnificent,  Cairo  the  Beautiful,  and 
the  Blessed. 

Shall  I confess  it  ? There  were  two  trains  of  thought 
struggling  for  precedence  in  my  mind  during  the  first 
half  hour  after  my  arrival,  nor  did  the  one  gain  entire 
ascendancy  until  I was  in  bed  and  nearly  asleep,  as  the 
day  was  breaking  over  the  red  hills.  The  one  was  full 
of  all  the  wonderful  creations  of  the  Arabian  Nights. 
The  heroes  and  all  the  natural  and  supernatural  person- 
ages of  those  exquisite  imaginations  were  around  me  in 
troops  the  moment  I was  within  the  city  of  Salah-e’deen. 
With  these  spectres  angels  strove.  I could  call  it  nothing 
else.  Sublime  and  solemn  memories,  that  forever  linger 
in  this  spot,  of  all  the  mighty  men  of  that  ancient  relig- 
ion, of  which  our  own  is  but  the  new  form,  of  patriarchs 
and  holy  men  of  old,  of  prophets  and  priests  in  later 
days,  who  came  down  with  the  scattered  remnant  of  the 
line  of  Abraham;  and  last  of  all,  of  the  mother  of  our 
Lord,  and  his  own  infant  footsteps;  all  these  came  to 
drive  away  the  genii  that  were  around  me,  and  before  I 
slept  the  seal  of  Solomon  was  over  them  again. 


6i)Il*o  ll]e  i)icfol*ioq3. 

After  four  weeks  in  Cairo  I began  to  feel  at  home. 
With  a reasonable  amount  of  curiosity  and  perseverance, 
one  may  accomplish  a good  deal  in  the  way  of  studying 
geography  in  that  time. 

What  I did,  and  how  I did  it,  it  would  be  difficult,  nay, 
impossible  even,  in  many  instances,  to  describe.  There 
were  morning  rides  along  interminable  narrow  lanes, 
where  I would  often  lift  my  stick,  just  three  feet  long, 
and  holding  it  horizontally  show  Miriam,  -whose  donkey 
kept  close  behind  mine  everywhere,  that  that  was  the 
exact  Avidth  of  the  passage,  called  here  a street,  Avhile  the 
overlapping  lattices  of  the  opposite  houses  shut  out  the 
sunshine  from  above  us.  There  Avere  afternoon  sittings 
in  the  bazaars,  on  the  shop  front  of  Suleiman  Effendi  or 
old  Khamil  the  silk  and  embroidery  merchant.  One  day 
I Avas  in  the  unknown  depths  of  the  Avell  of  Yusef  in  the 
citadel,  and  another  I Avas  discussing  history  Avith  Sheikh 
Hassan  in  the  Mosk  el  Azhar,  and  almost  every  morning 
I smoked  a sheeshee  Avith  Dr.  Abbott,  and  talked  of 
ancient  Egypt. 

The  modern  Orient  and  the  ancient  East  were  thus 
daily  before  me,  and  picking  up  a little  Arabic  for  com- 
mon uses  from  day  to  day,  I had  soon  but  little  need  of  a 
dragoman,  except  as  a guide  to  spots  I desired  to  visit. 


ABOUT  TOWN. 


61 


Some  months  later  than  this  I saw  Damascus.  I was 
disappointed  in  my  hopes  of  reaching  Bagdad,  but  I have 
little  doubt  of  the  universal  truth  of  my  remark,  that 
Cairo  is  the  most  oriental  city  of  the  East.  I use  the 
word  in  a sense  in  which  most  persons  will  understand 
me  without  explanation.  Damascus  was  more  European 
in  external  appearance  ; Cairo  is  the  heart  of  the  Orient. 

During  our  first  week  in  Cairo  we  had  tried  various 
donkeys,  and  at  length  selected  four  which  were  much 
the  best,  and  these  remained  in  our  service  for  a month. 

I commend  Mohammed  Olan  to  all  travelers  as  a 
donkey-boy,  if  he  be  not  already  grown  out  of  that  posi- 
tion : for  he  seemed  in  a fair  way  to  emerge  into  a drago- 
man’s servant,  that  being  first  step  toward  being  drago- 
man. Donkey-boys  pick  up  a little  English  and  French, 
and  thus  become  fit  for  servants  to  travelers. 

Every  morning,  therefore,  our  donkeys  stood  before 
the  door  of  the  Indian  Hote],  under  the  large  lebbek 
trees,  on  the  side  of  the  Ezbekieh,  and  a general  shout 
of  good  morning  welcomed  our  first  appearance.  The 
ladies’  saddles  w^ere  English.  All  visitors  to  Egypt  will 
do  well  to  provide  themselves  wuth  these  at  Malta.  In 
Egypt,  they  will  find  them  scarce,  poor,  and  high-priced. 

We  took  a regular  morning  gallop  up  the  Mouski, 
which  is  the  chief  Frank  street,  and  leads  directly  to  the 
Turkish  bazaars.  In  the  latter  our  faces  were  well 
known. 

If  you  visit  them,  O traveler,  remember  Suleiman 
Efiendi,  for  my  sake.  He  is  the  oldest  man,  with  the 
longest  and  whitest  beard,  and  he  smokes  the  most  deli- 
cious Latakea  of  all  the  merchants  in  the  bazaars  within 
the  chains,  which  chains  forbid  the  entrance  of  camels  or 
donkeys  among  the  jewels  and  amber  and  rare  silks  and 
broideries  that  there  abound.  Many  summery  noons  I lost 
in  clouds  of  forgetfulness,  seated  in  dreamy  langour,  wdth 


62 


SULEIMAN  EFFENDI. 


Suleiman  the  Magnificent  on  his  little  shop  front,  dis- 
coursing in  words  that  were  less  frequent  than  the  vol- 
leys of  smoke,  subjects  of  profound  interest ; such  as  the 
reason  why  the  smoke  went  upward,  and  why  the  fire 
seemed  brighter  in  the  shade  than  the  sunshine,  and 
why  the  sunshine  was  pleasant,  and  why  we  liked  what 
was  pleasant  more  than  what  was  not  pleasant,  and  many 
other  marvelous  and  inexplicable  things,  in  regard  to  all 
which  we  arrived  at  much  the  same  conclusions,  and 
always  with  complete  satisfaction. 

Ah,  my  friend,  you  may  not  know  the  luxury  of  such 
discussions — you  who  waste  golden  hours  in  idle  words, 
raising  what  you  call  theories,  and  disputing  and  anni- 
hilating them,  and  sharpening  and  hurting  one  another’s 
intellects  with  useless  and  sounding  words. 

Not  so  we  who  have  learned  the  mystery  of  things  in 
the  cool  shades  of  the  Cairene  bazaars,  from  whose  lips, 
blue  smoke  issues  in  place  of  theories;  and  is  not  the 
smoke  of  equal  value  ? For  this  was  the  style  of  our  dis- 
cussion : 

“ O Suleiman  Efifendi,  wherefore  is  it  that  the  sun- 
shine falls  into  the  bazaar,  and  why  does  it  not  pause  up 
yonder  above  the  roof  of  the  wakalla  ?” 

And  Suleiman  heard  me,  but  he  was  not  the  man  to 
bother  himself  about  a matter  which  he  could  explain  in 
one  word,  and  so  he  sent  a cloud  of  blue  smoke  up  into 
the  sunshine,  and,  after  a pause  of  some  minutes,  uttered 
the  word, 

“ Inshallah.” 

“But,  O Effendi,  wherefore  is  it  that  you  Moham- 
medans do  not  look  into  these  things  ? One  would  sup- 
pose you  did  not  care  how  soon  the  old  roof  over  the 
bazaars  iq?  yonder  fell  and  crushed  you.  Will  it  not  fall  ? 
— look  at  it  ?” 

The  old  man  poured  out  a long  sunbeam  of  smoke,  for 


DARK  EYES. 


63 


the  window  in  the  crazy  roof  let  the  rays  fall  just  before 
him,  and  again  ejaculated  a guttural  “ Inshallah.” 

“O  Suleiman  the  honorable,  listen  to  me.  I,  Bra- 
heem  Efiendi,  owe  you  a thousand  piastres  for  the  amber 
mouth-piece  I bought  of  you  yesterday.  I am  American, 
and  there  is  no  law  in  Musr  to  make  me  pay  you.  I 
shall  go  without  paying  you.” 

“ Inshallah.” 

“ I am  going  now.” 

“ Inshallah.” 

I dismounted  from  the  shop  front,  shuffled  on  my 
red  slippers,  and,  as  I bade  him  good-morning,  the  old 
man  uttered  for  once  a somewhat  disturbed  “ Bismillah,” 
as  if  he  were  astonished  that  I was  in  earnest ; and  then 
as  I vanished  in  the  crowd  beyond  the  chains,  he  relapsed 
into  his  ancient  kief  and  left  it  all  to  God. 

There  is  something  comfortable  about  all  this  to  a man 
who  has  lived  in  fast  America,  and  who  has  always  had  a 
lazy  inclination  to  leave  matters  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves* 

Sometimes  we  rode  hour  after  hour  around  the  streets 
of  Cairo,  looking  at  old  lattices,  quaintly  and  elaborately 
carved,  catching  once  in  a while  the  vision  of  a beautiful 
face  through  some  small  opening,  and  carrying  away  with 
us  the  blessings  of  smiles  from  dark  eyes.  Ah  me,  how 
many  smiles  I have  had  from  unknown  beauties  that  I 
shall  never  see  again  ; and  yet,  if  one  meets  a fair  woman 
in  the  street,  or  on  the  steamer,  or  even  but  sees  her  on 
the  other  side  of  a Caii’ene  lattice,  and  exchanges  a smile 
with  her,  it  is  a thing  of  beauty  to  be  remembered  for- 
ever ; for  who  knows  that  we  shall  not  meet  again  some- 
where. I wonder  if  I shall  ever  meet  again  that  black- 
eyed  girl  that  looked  at  me  in  the  street  just  inside  the 
Bab  el  1^^'asr.  She  was  riding  on  a high-saddled  donkey, 
between  two  slaves,  following  three  other  women,  who 


64 


MOSK  OF  SULTAN  IIASSAN. 


looked  all  alike,  and  all  like  her.  For  a 'woman  of  Cairo, 
who  belongs  to  a wealthy  hareem,  is,  when  abroad,  but  a 
huge  bundle  of  black  silk,  with  a thick  white  vail,  through 
which  two  eyes  flash  like  stars. 

I was  last  of  our  party — she  last  of  hers — and,  as  she 
went  by  me,  suddenly  her  white  hand  threw  back  the 
vail,  and  all  the  lustre  of  her  magniflcent  countenance 
shone  on  me.  It  was  like  those  visions  that  we  have  in 
dreams  that  remain  forever  impressed  on  the  memory.  I 
can  never  forget  that  face — nor  would  I,  if  I could.  She 
was  not  so  exquisitely  beautiful  as  the  Greek  girl  I after- 
ward saw  in  a hareem  in  Syria,  of  whom  I shall  have  some- 
what to  say  there,  but  her  calm  white  face,  her  regular 
features  moulded  in  the  most  perfect  manner,  her  red 
lips  ripe,  full,  and  overflowing  with  fun,  and,  above  all,  her 
eyes  of  deep,  splendid  beauty  were  enough  to  remember 
for  a day  or  a lifetime. 

In  one  of  our  rambles  about  town,  going  up  one  street 
and  down  another,  without  heeding  whither  they  led  us, 
we  found  ourselves  one  day  at  the  great  entrance  of  the 
mosk  of  the  Sultan  Hassan,  and  dismounted  to  enter 
it.  Outside  the  door  were  venders  of  trifles  of  various 
sorts ; a kind  of  old  junk  dealers,  second-hand  clothiers, 
and  sellers  of  paste  and  imitation  jewelry.  Among 
them  were  venders  of  Meccan  curiosities — sandal-wood 
beads,  and  the  wood,  dipped  in  the  holy  well  of  Hagar, 
which  they  use  to  clean  their  teeth  with.  All,  or  nearly 
all,  the  Moslems  have  good  teeth,  kept  white  with  this 
wood,  a small  stick  of  which,  chewed  at  one  end,  forms  a 
soft,  brush,  which  they  use  till  the  whole  is  worn  away. 

The  mosk  is  a grand  structure,  chiefly  interesting  from 
being  built  of  the  stone  which  was  the  casing  of  the 
great  Pyramid  of  Ghizeh.  It  is  the  most  imposing  struct- 
ure in  all  the  Mohammedan  countries  I have  visited,  and 
probably  the  most  so  in  the  Moslem  world.  The  lofty 


MOSK  OF  MOHAMMED  ALI. 


65 


walls  surround  a rectangular  court,  one  side  of  which 
oj^ens  by  a grand  arch  into  an  immense  alcove,  in  the 
rear  of  which  is  the  inclosed  chamber  around  the  tomb  of 
the  Sultan  Hassan,  who  was  murdered  and  buried  here. 
The  guide  shows  the  traveler  the  blood  stains  on  the 
pavement  here,  and  says  something  unintelligible  about 
its  being  the  blood  of  Mamelukes  murdered  by  the  sul- 
tan ; but  I am  inclined  to  think  the  fact  is  that  the  Mam- 
eluke blood  is  of  the  times  of  Mohammed  Ali. 

On  the  tomb  lie,  as  is  the  custom,  a copy  of  the  Koran 
in  a strong  box,  and  sundry  old  coverings  of  silk,  that 
were  once  heavy  and  gorgeous.  The  days  are  past 
when  any  one  lived  to  cover  the  Sultan  Hassan  with 
cashmere. 

Immediately  above  the  mosk,  on  the  end  of  a j^ro- 
jecting  spur  of  the  Mokattam  hills,  stands  the  citadel  of 
Cairo,  a small  city  in  itself.  The  vast  extent  of  the  walls 
must  inclose  ten  or  fifteen  acres  of  ground,  in  which  are 
mosks,  palaces,  and  government-houses. 

High  over  all  towers  the  white  mosk  of  Mohammed 
*Ali,  built  of  unpolished  alabaster,  from  the  quarries  at 
Tel  el  Amarna.  Within  the  gorgeous  building,  which 
can  not  be  even  approached  except  by  first  putting  off 
the  shoes,  the  old  viceroy  lies  quiet  in  a corner  untroubled 
by  visions  of  Mamelukes.  He  sleeps  on  the  very  spot 
that  he  once  flooded  with  red  blood,  when  he  annihilated 
that  race  which  had  so  long  ruled  Egypt. 

Standing  by  his  tomb,  I heard  a story  of  his  later  years 
that  I have  not  seen  printed.  Whosoever  has  read  that 
story  of  the  slaughter  of  the  Mamelukes  by  Mohammed 
Ali,  has  observed,  that  in  whatever  volume  it  occurs,  it 
invariably  closes  with  the  friendship  that  the  viceroy 
always  afterward  had  for  Suleiman  Aga,  who  escaped 
the  massacre  in  the  dress  of  an  old  woman.  The  viceroy 
X^rofessed  to  doubt  the  method  of  his  escape.  Suleiman 


GO 


COFFEE  AND  PISTOLS. 


tried  the  disguise  on  his  master  again,  and  successfully 
begged  from  him  in  the  same  costume. 

The  alleged  aftection  of  the  viceroy  was  not  uniform, 
however.  He  hated  a Mameluke,  and  not  even  Sulei- 
man escaped  his  hatred. 

One  morning  as  they  sat  cozily  together  as  of  old,  Sul- 
eiman saw  something  that  disturbed  his  quiet  of  soul, 
either  m the  face  of  his  master  or  in  the  cup  before  him. 

“ Why  don’t  you  drink  your  cojQfee  ?”  said  the  old 
viceroy. 

“ Do  you  wish  me  to  drink  it  ?” 

“ Certainly.  Drink  it,  man — drink.” 

The  Mameluke  tucked  back  the  voluminous  folds  of  his 
dress,  and  exhibited  to  the  viceroy  the  gold  handles  of  a 
half  dozen  pistols,  on  one  of  which  he  laid  his  finger, 
while  his  eye  sparkled  silently  all  that  he  would  have 
said. 

“ ‘ It  is  well  to  die  in  good  company,’  saith  the  tra- 
dition ; shall  I drink  ?” 

There  was  no  one  near  to  seize  him.  It  was  literally  a 
case  of  life  and  death.  The  wily  nionarch  saw  that  he 
was  caught. 

“Tush!  nonsense,  Suleiman!  don’t  make  a fool  of 
yourself.  If  you  don’t  hke  your  coffee,  here.  I’ll  pour  it 
behind  the  cushion and  he  did  so.  Then  they  sent  for 
the  Koran,  and  laid  it  down  between  them,  and  swore 
good  faith  each  to  the  other  across  it.  After  that  Sul- 
eiman lived  to  see  his  master  buried  in  his  great  mosk 
standing  on  the  spot  once  red  with  the  blood  of  his 
slaughtered  friends. 

Another  day’s  ride  brought  us  to  the  southernmost 
gate  of  the  city  ; and  thence  we  pushed  on  to  the  tombs 
'of  the  family  of  Mohammed  Ali,  which  are  not  far  south- 
west of  Cairo,  in  the  sandy  plain  between  it  and  old 
Cairo  or  Fostat.  Here  the  great  viceroy  built  a mosk 


THE  GREAT  DEAD. 


07 


for  a burial-place,  and  before  he  died  saw  many  of  his 
valiant  children  laid  there  ; but  himself  sleeps  elsewhere, 
in  the  great  mosk  within  the  citadel. 

Here  Abbas  and  Toossoon,  and  the  great  Ibrahim  are 
buried.  The  tomb  of  the  latter  is  a most  superb  sepul- 
chral monument ; and  probably,  with  the  solitary  excep- 
tion of  that  of  ISTapoleon,  it  is  the  most  splendid  in  the 
world.  It  is  a monumental  structure  of  marble,  over 
which  a rich  mazarine  blue  enamel  is  laid,  covering  the 
entire  monument.  This  is  broken  by  the  various  inscrip- 
tions, which  are  in  rehef,  sharply  cut  from  the  marble,  in 
all  the  styles  of  character  knowui  to  the  Arabic,  and  all 
gilded.  The  effect  is  rich  and  dazzling. 

Here  and  there,  in  the  mosk,  men  were  praying  and 
reading  aloud  from  the  Koran,  but  none  seemed  disturbed 
by  our  entrance.  It  was  with  no  common  emotion  that 
I found  myself  standing  by  the  tomb  of  the  man  whom 
history  will  consider  as  the  rival  of  Napoleon  among  the 
great  warriors  of  the  past  seventy  years.  From  it  I 
walked  a little  distance  across  the  hot  sand  to  the  grave 
of  Murad  Bey,  the  rival  of  Le  Beau  Sabreur  himself.  His 
tomb  is  in  a sort  of  inclosed  grave-yard,  in  the  dry  sand, 
covered  with  a rude  stone  structure  that  will  not  outlast 
this  century.  If  a voice  could  be  found  that  had  power 
to  open  these  graves  and  show  these  dead,  as  they  lie 
with  their  hands  under  their  cheeks,  and  their  faces 
toward  the  Prophet’s  tomb,  what  a scene  would  the  dead 
of  Egypt  present ! What  mighty  califs  of  the  old  lines, 
what  fierce  soldiers  of  later  days,  with  closed  lips,  and 
sightless  eyes,  and  shrunken  features — aU  with  their  thin 
faces  toward  Mecca ! 

Every  one  has  read  of  the  beautiful  and  airy  structures 
east  of  Cairo,  known  as  the  tombs  of  the  Mameluke  sul- 
tans. Some  one  has  spoken  of  them  as  exhalations  from 
the  sand.  They  are  in  sadly  ruinous  condition  now, 


68 


INS  II  Allah! 


chiefly  surrounded  by  mud  huts,  and  their  doorways 
thronged  by  begging  fellaheen  and  naked  children.  They 
were  our  favorite  resorts  in  the  afternoons,  Avhen  we  had 
nowhere  else  to  ride  to,  and  thither,  going  out  of  the 
Bab  el  Nasr,  the  gate  of  victory,  we  would  ride  slowly 
and  watch  the  changing  lights  on  their  graceful  minarets 
as  the  sun  went  down  behind  the  pyramids. 

Such,  from  day  to  day,  was  our  employment  in  Cairo. 
Think  of  looking  up  your  banker  at  the  bottom  of  a 
street  four  feet  wide  and  four  hundred  long,  or  of  buying 
a coat  over  a chibouk  and  a cup  of  cofltee  ! 

The  bazaars  of  Cairo  have  been  frequently  described. 
The  streets  are  a little  wider  where  the  shops  abound, 
and  are  usually  roofed  over,  admitting  sunshine  by  win- 
dows in  the  matting  or  close  roof,  only  at  mid-day.  Bus- 
iness hours  are  from  about  eleven  to  three.  No  shop  is 
023611  longer  in  the  23rincipal  bazaars.  I have  more  than 
once  found  a merchant  closing  his  shop  and  have  been 
refused  an  article  I wished  to  purchase. 

“ Come  to-morrow.  I am  going  home  now.” 

“ But  I shall  not  be  here  to-morrow.” 

“ Inshallah  !”  and  he  looked  U2i  and  departed. 

At  mid-day  the  bazaars  are  crowded,  jammed,  with 
]3assers-by  or  23urchasers,  women  with  vailed  faces,  and 
donkeys  loaded  with  ivater-skins,  Turks,  Bedouins,  camels, 
dromedaries,  and  horses,  all  mingled  together,  for  side- 
walk or  pavement  there  is  none,  and  it  is  therefore  at  the 
risk  of  constant  23ressure  against  the  filthiest  specimens 
of  humanity,  and  constant  collisions  with  nests  of  fleas 
and  lice,  that  one  ]3asses  through  the  narrow  streets. 

I remember  well  the  purchase  of  a common  traveling 
dress  which  Miriam  effected,  and  which  will  serve  to 
illustrate  the  Cairene  and  Eastern  style  of  business.  We 
went  to  the  silk-merchants  in  the  wealthiest  bazaar  of 
Cairo.  One  and  another  showed  his  small  stock  of  goods, 


SHOPPING. 


69 


but  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Miriam  hit  on  such  as 
suited  her.  When  this  was  found,  commenced  the  busi- 
ness of  determining  the  price.  The  shop  of  the  Turkish 
merchant  is  but  a small  cupboard.  The  front  is  invaria- 
bly about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  shop-window  in  Amer- 
ica, say  six  feet  wide  by  eight  high.  The  floor  of  the 
shop  is  elevated  two  feet  above  the  street,  and  on  a car- 
pet in  the  middle  of  the  floor  sits  the  merchant.  His 
shop  is  so  small  that  every  shelf  is  within  reach  of  his 
hands.  Of  these  shops  there  are  thousands  in  Cairo,  and 
whatever  the  business,  the  shop  is  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion. ' ' ■ ■ 

Miriam  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  the  merchant,  with  her 
feet  in  the  street  over  the  front  of  the  shop  ; I on  his  left. 
The  silk  goods  lay  piled  on  the  carpet  between  us,  the 
pieces  she  had  selected  being  uppermost.  The  first  step 
toward  price  was  a cup  of  coflee,  and  a pipe.  She  took 
coflee ; I smoked  quietly  a few  minutes,  and  the  Turk 
smoked  as  calmly  and  coolly  as  if  there  was  no  silk  on 
earth,  and  he  was  dreaming  of  heaven.  For  some  min- 
utes the  silence  was  unbroken,  Avhile  he  looked  at  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  street,  and  we  blew  a tremendous  cloud 
of  smoke.  At  length  I broke  the  silence. 

“ How  much  ?” 

He  smoked  calmly  awhile,  sent  the  cloud  slowly  up, 
and  the  words  came  from  his  lips  as  gently  as  the  smoke 
itself.  • ‘ 

“ Three  hundred  and  seventy-five  piastres.” 

“I  will  give  you  one  hundred  and  fifty.” 

“It  cost  me  more  money  than  twice  that.” 

“ It  is  not  worth  any  more.” 

“ It  is  very  beautiful.  I sold  one  like  it  yesterday  for 
three  hundred  and  eighty.” 

“I  will  not  give  it.” 

Five  minutes  of  smoke  and  silence.  Miriam  most  de- 


VO 


SHOPPIN  G. 


cidedly  impatient,  and  yet  full  of  fun  at  this  novel  mode 
of  buying  a dress,  A fresh  pipe  and  a fresh  start.  I 
asked  him  the  least  he  would  take.  It  was  three  hun- 
dred. I laid  down  the  pipe,  sighed  heavily,  and  walked 
away  down  the  bazaar  toward  the  donkey-boys.  He  fol- 
lowed ns  out  and  down  the  street,  calmly  and  quietly  as- 
suring ns  that  he  was  honorable  in  his  statements,  and 
offering  a reduction  of  ten  piastres  more.  I offered  him 
two  hundred.  He  exclaimed  in  despair  and  retired. 

Having  made  one  or  two  other  purchases,  we  returned 
to  the  charge.  He  had  spread  his  iwaying  carjDet,  and 
was  kneeling  in  his  shop  engaged  in  his  devotions.  A 
dozen  other  Mussulmans  were  in  sight,  doing  as  he.  It 
was  the  hour  when  the  voice  of  the  muezzin  called  to 
prayer,  and  though  in  the  din  and  bustle  of  the  crow^ded 
bazaar  I had  not  heard  it,  yet  on  the  ears  of  these^  sincere 
worshipers  it  had  fallen  from  the  mdnaret  of  Kalaoon,  and 
they  obeyed  the  summons. 

We  waited  till  he  had  finished,  and  then  resumed  our 
seats  and  negotiations,  which  were  finally  terminated  by 
our  coming  together  on  an  intermediate  point,  and  the 
sale  being  closed,  we  mounted  our  donkeys  and  rode 
homeward.  This  was  but  the  first  of  a dozen  similar 
negotiations,  and  is  a fair  specimen  of  the  Cairene  manner 
of  doing  business. 

But  let  no  one  therefore  imagine  that  my  friend  Sulei- 
man Effendi  is  not  as  respectable  a merchant  as  any  man 
on  ’change  in  Gotham,  or  because  he  smokes  a pipe  and 
not  a cigar  think  him  either  low  in  his  tastes  or  suscepti- 
ble of  ignoble  infiuences.  Suleiman  is  a merchant-prince, 
and  his  Latakea  is  of  irreproachable  fragrance. 


6. 


Jlje  foofpHiifg  of  file  £f|fl’iiil*eii§. 

We  had  not  yet  decided  on  a dragoman  for  the  Nile. 
Abrams,  our  Maltese  servant,  had  accepted  an  offer  from 
some  gentlemen,  and  was  preparing  to  go  up  the  river 
with  them.  Meantime  we  had  for  a daily  attendant  and 
guide  a stately-looldng  Arab,  Hajji  Ismael,  by  name, 
whose  chief  virtue  consisted  in  his  splendid  outfit.  Every 
morning  he  made  his  appearance  in  a new  suit  from  head 
to  foot,  now  flashing  in  silk  and  now  dignified  in  broad- 
cloth. The  fellow  must  have  worn  some  hundred  pounds’ 
worth  of  clothing,  but  failing  thereby  to  impress  us  with 
a sense  of  his  desirableness  as  a permanent  dragoman,  he 
gave  up  in  despair,  having  at  last  been  reduced  to  appear 
twice  in  the  same  shoes,  although  in  aU  other  respects 
his  change  was  as  complete  as  usual. 

Marshalled  by  Hajji  Ismael,  Hajji  (pilgrim)  by  virtue 
of  having  visited  the  Prophet’s  tomb  at  Medina  and  the 
holy  Kaaba  at  Mecca,  we  penetrated  all  manner  of  places 
and  sav/  all  manner  of  sights. 

Cairo  in  itself  possesses  no  interest  by  reason  of  any 
great  antiquity.  It  does  not  stand  on  ground  that  is  hal- 
lowed by  any  ancient  name,  story,  or  ruins.  The  found- 
ing of  Cairo,  known  formerly  as  Musr-el-Kahira,  was  in 
the  year  969,  but  the  city  received  its  greatest  embellish- 
ments, and  became  most  powerful  and  wealthy,  under  the 


12 


TOPOGRAPHY. 


reigu  of  Yusef  SaLali-e’deen,  known  to  all  readers  of  the 
history  of  the  crusades. 

Ancient  Memphis  stood  on  the  west  side  of  the  ^^'ile, 
and  some  four  to  eight  miles  higher  up  than  Boulak. 
Cairo  stands  on  the  desert  edge,  its  eastern  gates  opening 
on  the  sand,  and  its  western  on  the  rich  fields  of  sugar- 
cane and  groves  of  palms  and  acacia,  which,  in  a belt  two 
miles  wide,  sei^arate  the  city  from  the  river.  On  the  river 
edge,  stretching  a mile  and  a half  north  and  south,  is 
Boulak,  from  which  two  broad  avenues  run  up  to  the 
city.  At  the  southern  part  of  Boulak  commences  a row 
of  palaces  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  which  is  here  divided 
on  two  sides  of  the  island  of  Rhoda,  and  these  continue  in 
unbroken  succession  two  miles  southward,  to  the  head  of 
Rhoda,  where,  on  the  mainland,  is  Old  Cairo^  or  Fostat. 
This  occupies  the  site  of  the  Roman  station  Babylon^  and 
in  its  neighborhood  are  certain  ancient  Christian  qhurches, 
of  which  I shall  speak  hereafter.  Prior  to  Roman  times 
the  cities  in  this  part  of  Egypt  were  Memphis,  on  the 
Avest  bank,  and  Heliopolis,  on  the  east,  the  latter  lying  six 
miles  north  of  the  site  of  Cairo,  on  the  desert  edge. 

Once  for  all,  let  me  say  to  those  few  who  do  not  al- 
ready knoAv  it,  that  Egypt  south  of  the  Delta  (which 
commences  about  twenty  miles  north  of  Cairo)  is  on  an 
average  four  miles  wide.  The  hills  on  the  two  sides  of 
the  river  are  about  that  distance  apart,  sometimes  ap- 
proaching on  one  side  to  the  very  river’s  edge,  and  some- 
times on  the  other.  Between  the  bases  of  these  hills  the 
land  is  for  the  most  part  a dead  Avater  level,  annually 
covered  by  the  rising  Rile.  The  Aullages  are  usually 
built  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  Where  othenvise, 
they  are  on  artificial  mounds  in  the  plain,  or  on  the  ruins 
of  ancient  temples.  These  hills  are  rocky  clhfs,  utterly 
destitute  of  A^egetation.  YelloAv  sand  pours  doAvn  over 
them  from  the  Arabian  and  the  Libyan  deserts,  and  some- 


H AJJI  ISMAEL. 


*73 


times  encroaches  on  the  cultivated  land.  The  hills  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  Nile,  after  following  the  course 
of  the  river  as  far  as  to  Cairo,  send  a single  low  spur  into 
the  city,  on  the  point  of  which  is  the  citadel,  and  then 
sweep  off  to  the  eastward  and  disappear.  From  Cairo 
eastward,  the  desert  reaches  in  general  on  a level  to 
Suez,  and  north  of  this  Egypt  grows  broader,  the  Nile 
separating  into  many  streams,  and  rain  not  being  so  un- 
frequent. 

The  Nile  being  now  high,  for  it  was  yet  early  in  Octo- 
ber, the  country  was  still  overflowed,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  arrange  for  a visit  to  the  pyramids  without  tak- 
ing tents  and  remaining  there  over  night.  The  ladies 
were  not  yet  accustomed  to  hardship,  and  we  were  un- 
willing to  break  into  nomadic  life  thus  suddenly. 

Heliopolis  was  almost  as  difficult  of  access,  except  by  a 
route  along  the  desert  edge,  which  was  some  miles  longer 
than  the  direct  route  by  Matarecyeh.  Nevertheless,  avc 
tried  it  one  pleasant  morning  with  success. 

Ilajji  Ismael  was  out  in  a new  dress.  It  was  his 
eighth  morning,  I think,  and  his  eighth  dress.  The 
donkey-boys  were  rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  a good 
day,  for  a long  expedition  always  made  necessary  a 
luncheon,  which  they  were  very  certain  of  sharing.  I 
can  not  too  highly  commend  IMr.  Williams’s  Indian  Hotel 
to  travelers ; though  small,  it  is  by  far  the  best  and  most 
comfortable  in  Egy|)t,  and  tlic  stranger  will  And  himself 
there  most  perfectly  a,t  home.  They  always  provided  us 
with  a capital  lunchegn  when  we  went  away  for  a day’s 
ride,  and  so  to-day. 

We  rattled  along  tlie  Ezbekieh  and  through  innum- 
erablo  narrow  streets,  and  at  last  out  of  a gate  on  the 
nortli  side  of  tlie  city,  and  across  the  country  toward  the 
ancient  city  of  Oji. 

Our  route  lay  just  within  the  edge  of  cultivated  land,; 

4 


74  FIG-TREE  OF  JOSEPH  AND  MARY. 

we  should  have  done  better  to  keep  out  on  the  sand  of 
the  desert,  for  we  found  ourselves  at  length  in  a field 
from  which  there  was  no  dry  outlet  but  on  the  back 
track.  The  appearance  of  the  water  was  not  very  deep, 
and  we  ventured  in.  But  we  had  not  calculated  for  the 
mud  underneath,  linearly  a fourth  of  a mile  we  advanced 
through  the  water,  and  then  the  mud  deepened.  Mir- 
iam’s donkey  sHpped,  and  but  for  the  boys  who  caught 
her,  she  would  have  been  worse  than  drowned.  They 
carried  her  on  their  shoulders  across  the  rest  of  the  flood, 
and  we  then  continued  our  way,  through  all  kinds  of 
paths,  wet  and  dry,  mud  and  sand,  sunny  and  shady,  till 
we  arrived  at  Matareeyeh  and  the  flg-tree  of  Joseph  and 
Mary. 

The  tradition  that  the  Saviour  rested  under  this  tree  is 
very  ancient,  but  of  how  early  a date  it  is  impossible  to 
say.  The  Copts  and  Armenians,  I believe,  both  adopt  it. 
It  stands  in  a fenced  garden,  and  the  well  of  w’ater  near 
it  is  said  to  be  a fountam  that  burst  out  to  satisfy  the 
Virgin’s  thirst. 

Passing  this,  we  saw  at  some  distance  from  us,  rising 
over  the  dense  mass  of  trees  and  shrubs  that  surrounded 
it,  the  solitary  obelisk  of  Heliopolis.  Just  before  reach- 
ing it  we  passed  three  great  pieces  of  stone,  evidently 
parts  of  a gateway,  on  which  we  found  the  cartouche  of 
Thothmes  III.  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus. 

It  was  the  flrst  of  the  great  antiquities  of  Egypt  that  I 
had  seen,  and  I paused  here  with  perhaps  somewhat  more 
of  respect  than  I should  give  those  stones  now  after  flve 
months  among  the  mighty  ruins  of  this  oldest  of  coun- 
tries. But  there  is  nevertheless  a something  about  those 
stones  which  give  them  an  interest  that  scarcely  any 
others  have. 

If,  as  we  believe,  Thothmes  III.  was  the  Pharaoh  of  the 
days  of  Moses,  then  this  may  well  have  been  part  of  the 


HELIOPOLIS. 


75 


gateway  to  his  palace  temple  through  which  the  great 
lawgiver  passed  and  repassed,  in  the  days  of  the  captivity 
and  deliverance  of  the  children  of  Jacob.  It  was  no  idle 
fancy,  strangely  as  it  may  strike  the  ear  of  one  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  antiquity  of  Egypt.  A few  paces  more 
brought  us  to  the  obelisk,  the  solitary  memorial  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  great  city  of  the  times  of  Joseph. 

This  monument  bears  the  name  of  Osirtasen,  and  the 
date  of  this  monarch  is  probably  not  far  from  the  time  of 
Abraham.  As  I shall  elsewhere  speak  of  the  chronology 
of  Egypt,  I shall  not  pause  here  to  speak  of  the  chrono- 
logical differences  among  Egyptian  scholars.  For  our 
present  purposes  it  is  enough  to  believe  that  this  magnifi- 
cent column  stood  here  when  Jacob  blessed  his  children 
and  departed,  and  when  Joseph  charged  them  to  carry 
his  bones  into  the  Land  of  Promise.  Around  it  then 
gathered  the  most  splendid  palaces  of  Egypt;  and  here, 
perhaps,  w'as  held  the  court  to  which  the  old  wanderer  of 
Canaan  came.  But  of  that  old  glory  nothing  remains. 
The  obelisk  stands  ten  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  sur- 
rounding earth,  in  an  excavation  made  to  exhibit  its  base, 
and  under  the  mounds  that  lie  here  and  there  about  it 
are  the  buried  ruins  of  the  City  of  the  Sun.  We  sat  in 
the  shadow  of  the  obelisk  and  spread  before  us  our  lunch. 
It  was  of  bread,  figs,  dates,  pomegranates,  and  oranges, 
and  each  of  these  fruits  was  growing  in  j^rofusion  within 
twenty  yards  of  us,  as  well  as  olives,  custard  apples,  bamia, 
and  melons  of  every  kind.  The  obelisk  stands,  in  the 
centre  of  a garden  of  perhaps  twenty  acres  of  good  land, 
and  around  this  the  desert  rolls  barren  and  hot.  It  would 
seem  that  the  peculiar  interest  attached  to  this  spot  as 
the  City  of  Joseph,  as  well  as  the  chief  seat  of  learning 
in  later  years,  where  Plato  and  the  other  great  philoso- 
phers studied  and  taught,  has  been  specially  provided  for 
in  the  luxuriance  of  the  fruits  and  products  of  its  soil ; so 


16 


AGRICULTURE. 


that,  instead  of  the  shining  sand  that  covers  Mempliis 
and  lies  around  the  pyramids,  we  have  the  grove  of  the 
Academy  to  rest  in  while  we  listen  to  the  voice  of  its 
great  teacher. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Heliopolis  I had  opportunity 
to  see  the  method  of  cultivation  adopted  by  the  modern 
Egyptians. 

No  land  is  under  cultivation  which  is  not  reached  by 
the  Nile  overflow,  or  by  simple  machines  for  raising  water 
and  jiouring  it  on  the  soil.  Rain  being  no  dependence, 
irrigation  is  continued  throughout  the  growing  season. 
So  soon  as  the  Nile  retires  the  surface  of  the  ground 
bakes  hard.  This  is  broken  up  by  the  rude  plow  of  an- 
cient and  modern  times,  unchanged  since  the  days  of 
Sesostris,  and  the  soil  then  planted  and  steadily  watered 
till  the  fruit  is  ri^ie. 

Canals,  large  and  small,  intersect  the  country  every- 
where. Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  arable  land  of 
Egypt  is  almost  a perfect  level,  so  that  v/hen  the  Nile 
rises  to  a certain  height  it  flows  over  all  the  land  in  every 
direction,  and  canals  continue  the  supply  as  the  river  falls. 
Some  lands,  rescued  from  the  desert,  are  on  a level  a few 
feet  higher,  and  others  are  not  so  low  as  to  be  covered 
by  the  Nile  in  a year  like  this,  when  it  does  not  reach  its 
full  height.  Every  field,  high  or  low,  is  intersected  by 
little  canals,  made  by  heatnng  the  dirt  uj:)  and  hollowing 
a trench  in  it,  so  that  the  field  is  dividkl,  like  a chess- 
board, into  a number  of  small  squares.  These  trenches 
are  supplied  with  water  by  two  processes.  The  larger 
trenches,  which  run  several  miles,  are  supplied  by  wheels 
at  the  Nile  or  in  the  canals,  which  are  turned  by  cattle, 
and  which  raise  an  endless  chain  of  earthen  pots  of  water. 
A pump  is  unknown  in  Egypt.  The  smaller  canals  are 
supplied 'by  a shadoofs  which  is  arranged  precisely  like 
an  old-fashioned  well-pole  in  America,  except  that  the 


IRRIG ATI  ON. 


n 


swing  is  so  short  that  the  man  holds  the  bucket  almost 
constantly  in  his  hand,  and  dips  and  empties,  dips  and 
empties,  all  day  long.  Up  the  river  the  shadoof  is  used 
on  the  side  of  the  Nile  instead  of  the  water-wheel ; and 
everywhere  for  the  purpose  of  lifting  water  from  one 
trench  to  another  that  will  water  a few  acres  of  land  that 
is  higher  in  grade. 

A very  simple  contrivance  for  the  same  purpose  is  often 
found  in  the  fields.  It  is  a basket,  made  of  palm-leaves 
or  some  other  stout  substance,  swung  on  four  ropes,  two 
in  the  hands  of  one  man  and  two  of  another.  The  men 
sit  on  opposite  sides  of  the  stream  or  pool  of  water  sup- 
plied from  a canal  or  trench,  and  drop  the  basket  into  the 
water.  Then  they  raise  it  rapidly,  swinging  it  at  the 
same  time  over  the  top  of  the  higher  trench  into  which 
they  wish  to  lift  the  water,  and  at  the  same  instant  slack- 
en two  of  the  ropes  so  as  to  allow  the  water  to  fall 
out.  The  rapidity  and  ease  with  which  they  continue 
this  labor  from  morning  till  night  is  no  less  a source  of 
surprise  than  the  quantity  of  water  they  raise,  keeping  a 
steady  stream  running  from  their  place  of  work. 

Oftentimes  a piece  of  land  is  rescued  from  the  desert 
and  made  into  a beautiful  garden.  Almost  as  often  the 
desert  covers  over  a garden  and  reclaims  it  for  part  of 
its  empire  of  desolation.  Thus  at  Heliopolis  it  w'ould  ap- 
pear that  the  basin,  which  may  be  formed  by  the  ruined 
wall  of  an  ancient  temple,  over  which  the  sand  has  heaped 
itself  up,  suggested  to  some  one  the  idea  of  bringing  the 
Nile  into  it  and  watering  the  sand.  With  the  Nile  came- 
alluvial  deposit,  and  with  the  deposit  fruitfulness — such 
fruitfulness  as  we  seldom  see  even  on  our  western  prai- 
ries. In  this  small  farm,  around  the  old  stone,  grows 
every  variety  of  eastern  fruit.  Oranges  swing  in  clusters 
against  its  very  sides,  and  pomegranates,  and  figs,  and 
olives,  are  all  found  in  the  grounds,  while  vines  and  vege- 


78 


DESERT  PARTRIDGES. 


tables  abound.  A mud  village  stands  on  the  edge  of  the 
desert,  two  or  three  hundred  yards  from  the  obelisk,  and 
is  the  modern  successor  of  the  great  Ox.  Alas ! for  the 
dilference.  A crowd  of  women  and  children  followed  us 
through  the  narrow  winding  street,  shouting  for  money, 
until  we  were  fairly  out  of  their  district,  and  they  re- 
garded us  as  within  the  “ right  of  begging”  of  the  next 
village. 

On  the  way  home,  I found  good  shooting  along  the 
edge  of  the  desert.  I had  my  gun  Avith  me,  and  having 
missed  a shot  at  a flock  of  ibis,  I loaded  my  barrels  more 
carefully,  and  had  afterward  better  success.  It  is  a cu- 
rious fact,  that  the  air  of  Egypt  is  so  very  light  and  clear 
that  the  same  quantity  of  gunpowder  carries  shot  and 
ball  much  further  than  elsewhere,  and  the  load  of  a gun 
is  to  be  reduced  nearly  one-third  for  correct  shooting. 
This  I found  instantly  by  the  peculiar  ring  of  the  barrels 
on  firing,  and  I learned  afterward  that  such  is  the  case  in 
Egypt. 

Desert  partridges,  so  called,  abound  in  this  neighbor- 
hood. They  have  but  one  characteristic  which  should 
entitle  them  to  be  called  partridges.  That  is  the  feath- 
ered legs.  In  other  respects  they  are  more  like  a large 
jflgeon  in  shape,  and  their  color  is  of  a nondescript, 
desert-sand  sort  of  a color,  not  marked  regularly  in  any 
specimens  that  I haA^e  seen.  I had  two  or  three  shots  at 
them,  and  had  some  half  dozen  to  bring  home  for  dinner. 
Add  to  these  a large  hawk,  and  an  eagle,  as  the  boys 
called  it,  but  in  fact  a Amlture,  measuring  about  four  feet 
from  tip  to  tip,  and  you  have  the  contents  of  my  game- 
bag,  AA’hich,  by-the-by,  Avas  the  loose  bosom  of  the  shirt 
of  one  of  the  boys,  Avhich  was  our  constant  receptacle  for 
articles  to  be  carried. 

Returning  homeward,  we  diverged  somewhat  from  the 
direct  path,  and  crossed  the  hills  to  look  again  at  the 


TOMBS  OF  THE  MAMELUKE  SULTANS.  79 

tombs  of  the  Mameluke  sultans.  Sadly  ruinous,  and  as 
sadly  beautiful,  they  seemed  in  the  sunset  light  like  rep- 
resentatives of  the  religion  of  Mohammed,  sprung  glori- 
ously from  the  desert,  and  fast  falling  again  into  the 
wastes  of  sand.  The  most  beautiful  of  these,  that  of  the 
sultan,  Ghait  Bey,  who  died  in  1496,  is  worthy  of  pres- 
ervation, as  the  most  exquisite  specimen  of  eastern  ar- 
chitecture which  the  East  can  produce.  Within  the 
mosk  which  is  attached  to  the  tomb,  and  under  the 
dome,  stands  a block  of  black  stone,  bearing  the  impress 
of  a human  foot,  said  to  be  the  foot  of  the  Prophet. 
Another  stone  in  the  same  mosk  bears  the  perfect  im- 
pression of  two  feet,  also  attributed  to  the  same  great 
origin,  but  I think  the  two  footprints  rather  stagger  the 
faith  of  the  Mussulmans.  They  were  very  earnest  in 
pressing  their  kisses  on  the  single  footprint,  but  they 
only  glanced  at  the  other  stone,  although  its  casing  of 
silver  was  as  rich,  and  its  impressions  were  quite  as  deep. 

We  entered  the  city  by  the  Bab  el  Kasr,  the  gate  of 
victory. 


£l'q(jel'§  Coffee. 

I HAVE  met  all  sorts  of  derweeshes  (I  am  particular  in 
spelling  this  word  as  it  is  pronounced)  in  the  East,  and 
have  been  alternately  blessed  and  cursed  by  an  infinite 
number.  There  was  one  fellow  in  Cairo  who  cursed  me 
regularly.  If  there  is  any  virtue  in  his  anathemas  my 
case  is  hopeless.  I met  him  daily,  he  was  daily  imper- 
tinent in  his  demands,  thrust  his  wooden  plate,  smelling 
vilely,  under  my  nose,  utterly  heedless  of  ray  refined  sen- 
sibility of  nerve  in  that  region,  and  stopped  my  donkey 
with  new  impudence  every  successive  day.  As  soon 
as  I picked  up  enough  Arabic  for  the  purpose  I cursed 
him  back,  and,  after  that,  almost  any  pleasant  day,  you 
might  have  seen  a funny  group  at  the  corner  of  the 
Mouski,  by  the  police  ofiice.  He  cursed  by  Mohammed, 
and  I by  St.  Simeon  Stylites;  he  invoked  Allah,  and  I 
hurled  at  him  the  anger  of  Juggernaut.  He  never 
dreamed  of  half  the  gods  and  prophets  that  I showered 
on  his  unlucky  head,  and,  at  last,  I converted  him.  That 
is  to  say  he  ceased  cursing  and  began  to  question,  and 
then  I had  him. 

We  sat  down  together  on  a mat,  under  the  shade  of 
one  of  the  great  lebbek  trees,  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Ezbekieh  (which,  be  it  known,  is  a vast  open  square, 
once  a lake,  now  filled  up,  and  luxuriant  with  all  manner 


PUNCH  AND  JUDY. 


81 


of  trees  and  herbs).  A curious  crowd  gathered  around 
us,  while  I informed  him  of  some  of  the  deities  I had  in- 
voked, their  history  and  powers,  and  thereby  endeavored 
to  enlighten  him  in  the  general  subject  of  natural  religion 
as  a groundwork  to  true  revelation. 

I think  I got  more  out  of  him  than  he  from  me,  for  I 
learned  somewhat  about  derweeshes. 

A derweesh  is  a man  who  has  vowed  to  lead  a relig- 
ious life.  This  may  be  esteemed  a general  definition. 
There  are  many  classes  of  them.  A sort  of  freemasonry 
exists  among  each  of  these,  but  no  man  because  a der- 
weesh is  therefore  obliged  to  renounce  his  business.  I 
know  of  nothing  to  prevent  the  sultan  himself  becoming 
one,  and  retaining  his  throne.  Many  classes  of  them  pro- 
fess to  perform  miracles,  thrusting  swords  through  their 
bodies,  pins  through  their  cheeks,  spikes  into  their  eyes, 
and  all  this  Avithout  leaving  wounds.  The  most  squalid 
Avretches  in  the  streets  of  an  eastern  city  are  derAveeshes, 
naked,  with  the  exception  of  a piece  of  sheepskin  around 
the  loins,  who  go  about  begging,  or  lie  in  stupid  inanity 
in  the  crowded  markets. 

My  new  acquaintance  invited  me  to  visit  the  college 
to  AAdiich  he  belonged,  but  this  AA^as  out  of  my  poAA'er 
then.  We  parted  pleasantly,  and  after  that,  he  looked 
calmly  at  me,  as  a man  Avhose  prodigious  learning  he  AA-as 
bound  to  respect,  and  I paid  him  liberally  for  his  silent 
flattery. 

As  we  separated,  I obseiwed  a Punch  and  Judy  tent 
near  by,  and,  paying  five  paras  (one  cent),  went  in.  The 
scene  was  undeniably  the  most  ludicrous  I ever  saw  at  a 
theatrical  performance,  Neapolitan  or  of  a higher  grade. 
Twenty  Egyptians,  old  and  young,  sat  on  the  ground, 
Avith  large  open  eyes  fixed  on  the  puppets.  Punch  beat 
Judy,  and  shouted  bad  Arabic,  and  Judy  screamed  in 
the  most  horrible  of  dialects.  But  it  Avas  all  Hebrew  to 

4* 


82 


A DONKEY  DERWEESH. 


these  poor  devils.  They  enjoyed  it.  It  was  a sort  of 
miracle  of  wonderment;  but  as  to  fun — that  never  en- 
tered their  heads : and  when  it  was  over,  they  retired  as 
solemnly  as  if  they  had  heard  preaching  in  a mosk. 

Voluntary  religious  meetings,  gotten  up  by  the  der- 
weeshes,  are  of  hourly  occurrence  in  the  streets  and 
coffee  shops.  A few  of  them  will  erect  a pole,  with 
flaunting  silk  flags  on  it,  and  begin  to  surround  it  with  a 
monotonous  dance  or  motion  of  the  body.  Volunteers 
enter,  and  join  the  increasing  circle,  until  it  not  infre- 
quently numbers  from  fifty  to  a hundred  persons. 

As  we  were  returning  one  afternoon  from  the  citadel, 
and  entered  the  Ezbekieh  square,  near  the  Oriental  Hotel, 
I caught  sight  of  one  of  these  assemblies  surrounding  a 
pole,  and  commencing  their  devotional  service  of  dancing 
and  singing.  We  paused  to  see  them,  and  sat  on  our 
donkeys  outside  of  the  ring,  in  which  some  fifty  men, 
dressed  in  various  costumes,  were  swinging  their  heads 
and  bodies  from  side  to  side,  and  giving  utterance,  at 
each  jerk,  to  a hoarse  guttural  exclamation.  This 
movement  became  very  rapid.  Not  infrequently  one  of 
them  would  cry  out  “ Allah !”  in  a voice  of  thunder. 
They  then  formed  two  rings,  those  in  the  inner  facing 
those  in  the  outer,  and  swinging  toward  each  other,  they 
shouted  the  same  strange  sound  at  each  swing.  Their 
faces  became  convulsed  ; they  foamed  at  the  mouth,  they 
screamed,  tossed  their  hair,  embraced  each  other,  and 
called  on  God  with  the  same  hoarse  cry. 

We  were  deeply  impressed  with  the  scene.  We  had 
gone  as  closely  up  to  the  outside  of  the  ring  as  we  could 
ride,  and  the  crowd  of  spectators  had  made  way  fgr  us, 
so  that  we  were  directly  behind  the  outer  ring,  and  our 
donkeys’  heads  were  close  to  the  performers,  when  sud- 
denly— imagine  our  horror ! — Miriam’s  donkey,  being 
evidently  taken  with  the  scene  and  affected  by  it,  ele- 


MOSK  OF  AMER. 


83 


vated  bis  bead  and  nose  between  tbe  beads  of  two  of  tbe 
derweesbes — one  an  old  man  with  flowing  gray  bair  and 
beard,  tbe  other  a young  man  with  long  dark  locks — and 
gave  utterance  to  sucb  a cry  as  none  but  an  Egyptian 
donkey  can  imitate.  It  was  like  tbe  blast  of  a hundred 
cracked  trumpets  or  fisb-horns.  IN’ever  were  men  so 
frightened  as  were  tbe  two  derweesbes.  They  nearly  fell 
into  the  ring  with  terror,  Mohammed,  tbe  boy,  in  an 
agony  of  despair,  sprang  to  bis  donkey’s  head  and  seized 
bis  jaws  with  both  hands.  Vain  endeavor!  He  but  in- 
terrupted tbe  terrific  sound,  and  made  it  tenfold  worse 
as  it  escaped  from  second  to  second,  and  at  length  be 
gave  it  up  and  fell  to  the  ground.  It  was  too  much  for 
Mussulman  gravity.  They  looked  at  us  furiously  at  first, 
but  tbe  next  instant  a universal  scream  of  laughter  broke 
from  the  surrounding  crowd,  and  we  rode  ofi*  in  tbe  midst 
of  it.  Even  Mohammed  Olan,  superstitious  Arab  that  be 
was  (for  he  told  me  that  very  day  that  be  bad  seen  an 
Efrite  the  night  before)  enjoyed  tbe  fun  of  the  thing,  and 
muttered  to  bis  mistress  as  be  ran  by  her  side,  “ He  good 
Mussulman  donkey.” 

Our  Friday  is  the  Moslem  seventh  day  of  rest,  or  of 
special  devotion.  We  selected  one  Friday  to  visit  the 
chief  college  of  tbe  derweesbes  on  tbe  Nile,  where  we 
could  see  the  whirling,  and  bear  the  bowling.  Leaving 
tbe  hotel  at  an  early  hour  in  tbe  morning,  provided  with 
luncheon  in  case  of  necessity,  we  went  first  to  Old  Cairo, 
and  visited  tbe  Mosk  of  Amer,  which  is  the  most 
ancient  of  tbe  buildings  of  tbe  modern  Egyptians.  It 
was  erected  about  a.d.  860,  and  there  is  a tradition  con- 
nected with  it,  and  firmly  relied  on  by  tbe  Moslems, 
that  when  it  falls  tbe  crescent  will  wane.  If  it  be  true, 
the  fall  of  tbe  Moslems  can  not  be  far  distant.  Al- 
ready tbe  great  walls  have  fallen  in,  and  lie  in  crumbling 
heaps  within  tbe  sacred  inclosure ; and  splendid  columns 


84 


NILOMETER. 


and  gorgeous  capitals  are  here  and  there  in  the  sand  and 
dust,  miserable  emblems  of  the  fading  glory  of  the  power 
that  has  so  long  controlled  the  East.  Near  the  entrance 
are  two  marble  columns  of  somewhat  amusing  history. 
They  stand  close  together  on  the  same  pedestal ; and,  in 
former  times,  when  the  mosk  was  in  its  glory,  these 
two  pillars  were  the  shibboleth  of  the  faith.  If  a man 
could  pass  between  them  he  might  hope  to  pass  the  gates 
of  Paradise.  If  he  were  too  great  in  body — if  the  good 
things  of  the  wwld  had  so  increased  his  rotundity  that 
he  might  not  squeeze  his  mortal  parts  through  the  narrow 
passage — then  it  was  very  certain  that  his  immortal  soul 
could  never  hope  to  see  the  houries.  Alas ! for  the  decay 
of  the  mosk  and  the  trembling  of  the  old  faith.  There 
was  no  one  of  us  that  could  not  readily  pass  between  the 
pillars,  though  they  stand  firmly  as  ever,  and  do  not  seem 
worn  by  the  myriads  who  have  tried  themselves  here.  I 
did  stick  at  first.  I confess  that  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt 
have  added  to  my  usually  respectable  size  so  much  that 
my  vest  buttons  caught  on  the  inner  post,  and  for  a 
moment  I thought  my  anti-Mohammedanism  settled. 
But  doubtless  these  later  years  of  Frank  innovations  have 
tended  to  relax  the  strictness  of  the  faith,  for  I went 
through  without  difficulty  after  one  vigorous  attempt, 
and  the  others  followed  me. 

The  service,  if  I may  so  call  it — the  Zikr — at  the  der- 
W'eesh  mosk  w^as  to  commence  at  one  o’clock.  AYe  had 
an  hour  before  us,  and  so  we  took  a boat  at  the  ferry 
from  Old  Cairo  to  Ghizeh,  and  w'ent  over  to  the  island  of 
Rhoda  to  see  the  Kilometer. 

It  is  on  the  upper  end  of  the  island,  adjoining  the 
palace  of  Hassan  Pacha,  and  consists  of  a graduated  stone 
pillar  in  the  centre  of  an  open  well.  Its  age  has  been  a 
subject  of  much  discussion  ; but  no  one,  I believe,  thinks 
of  placing  it  before  Mohammedan  times. 


THE  NILE. 


85 


We  saw  but  little  of  it,  for  the  Kile  ^yas  up  to  within 
three  inches  of  the  top.  But  here,  on  the  upper  end  of 
Bhoda,  for  the  first  time,  we  saw  the  Kile,  the  great 
river,  and  our  enthusiasm  was  now  at  the  fullest.  We 
stood  on  the  marble  portico  of  the  palace  facing  up  the 
stream,  which  is  divided  here,  and  saw  the  lordly  river 
come  down  in  all  its  majesty,  and  roll  its  waves  to  either 
side  of  us,  and  away  to  the  great  sea.  Here  it  was  the 
Kile.  Ko  dream,  no  half  river,  no  small  stream  of  dash- 
ing water,  but  that  great  river  of  which^we  had  read, 
thought,  and  dreamed ; the  river  on  which  princes  in 
long-forgotten  years  had  floated  palaces  and  temples  from 
far  up,  down  to  their  present  abode ; the  river  which 
Abraham  saw,  and  over  which  Moses  stretched  out  his 
arm  in  vengeance ; where  the  golden  barge  of  Cleopatra 
swept  with  perfumed  breezes,  and  when,  but  a few  years 
later,  she  was  dead  and  her  magnificence  gone,  the  feeble 
footsteps  of  the  Son  of  God,  in  infancy  on  earth,  hallowed 
the  banks  that  the  idolatry  of  thousands  of  years  had 
cursed ; the  river  of  which  Homer  sang,  and  Isaiah  pro- 
phesied, and  in  whose  dark  waters  fell  the  tears  of  the 
weeping  J eremiah  ; the  river  of  which  all  poets  wrote, 
all  philosophers  taught,  all  learning,  all  science,  all  art 
spoke  for  centuries.  The  waters  at  our  feet,  murmuring, 
dashing,  brawling  against  the  foundation  of  the  palace, 
come  by  the  stately  front  of  Abou  Simbal,  had  loitered 
before  the  ruins  of  Philse,  had  dashed  over  the  cataracts 
and  danced  in  the  starlight  by  Luxor  and  Karnak.  From 
what  remote  glens  of  Africa,  from  what  Ethiopian  plains 
they  rose,  we  did  not  noAV  pause  to  think,  but  having 
looked  long  and  earnestly  up  the  broad  reach  of  the 
river,  we  turned  into  the  palace,  and  after  pipes  and 
coffee,  the  universal  gift  of  hospitality  here,  we  returned 
to  our  boat. 

We  drifted  slowly  down  the  river  by  the  spot  where 


86 


COFFEE  AND  PRAYERS. 


tradition  says  that  Moses  was  hid  in  the  rushes,  to  the 
village  of  the  derweeshes,  that  stands  on  the  bank,  among 
the  palaces  that  stretch  from  Boulak  to  Old  Cairo. 

They  received  us  with  the  utmost  politeness.  There 
was  no  bigoted  hatred  of  Christians  visible.  On  the  con 
trary,  they  gave  us  seats  in  the  cool  court-yard,  under 
the  trees,  and  brought  us  coffee,  and  talked  as  pleasantly 
as  heart  could  desire.  Fifty  wild  looking  men  stood 
around  us,  gazing  indeed  somewhat  curiously  at  our 
costume,  but  pot  in  the  least  offended  at  our  visit ; and 
when  th^  hour  for  commencing  worship  arrived,  they 
brought  us  coffee  again,  and  then  conducted  us  into  their 
mosk,  where  we  took  our  seats  on  the  matting  at  the 
western  side.  About  eighty  men  stood  in  a semicircle, 
with  their  faces  to  the  south-east,  the  centre  of  the  circle 
being  the  arched  niche  which  is  always  left  in  a mosk 
on  the  side  toward  Mecca,  by  way  of  guiding  the  prayers 
of  the  faithful  in  that  direction.  Musical  instruments 
hung  on  the  wall,  and  some  of  the  worshipers  used  them, 
taking  down  one  and  putting  up  another  from  time  to 
time.  The  service  consisted  in  swinging  backward  and 
forward  in  time  with  the  leader,  a noble-looking  man, 
who  walked  around  the  inner  side  of  the  circle,  and  utter- 
ing at  each  swing  a violent  groan,  or  rather  a deep, 
strong  sob.  For  half  an  hour  this  motion  was  steady; 
then  it  became  more  rapid.  They  swung  the  body  for- 
ward, leaning  down  until  their  hair  swept  the  floor  in 
front,  and  threw  themselves  backward  with  a sudden, 
swift  bend  until  it  again  touched  the  floor  behind  them. 
The  velocity  of  this  motion  may  be  guessed  at  from  the 
fact,  that  for  the  space  of  more  than  an  hour  the  hair 
never  rested  or  fell  on  the  head,  but  continually  described 
a larger  circle  than  the  head  in  this  motion. 

In  the  mean  time  a man  dressed  in  a long  white  hooped 
dress,  tight  at  the  waist,  and  some  twenty  feet  in  circum- 


ALLAHl  ALLAhI 


87 


ference  at  the  bottom  of  the  skirt,  slid  into  the  centre  of 
the  half  circle,  and  commenced  a slow  revolution,  appar- 
ently as  gentle  and  easy  as  if  he  stood  on  a wheel  turned 
by  machinery.  After  a minute,  during  which  he  swung 
out  his  skirts  and  started  fairly,  his  speed  increased.  His 
hands  were  at  first  on  his  breast,  then  one  on  each  side 
of  his  head  ; and  when  the  full  speed  was  attained,  they 
were  stretched  out  horizontally,  the  right  hand  on  his 
right  side,  with  the  palm  turned  up,  and  the  left  hand  on 
its  side,  with  the  palm  down.  For  twenty-four  minutes, 
without  pause,  rest,  or  change  of  sjDeed,  he  continued  to 
whirl  around  like  a top.  The  velocity  was  exactly  fifty- 
five  revolutions  to  the  minute.  I timed  it  frequently,  and 
w’as  astonished  at  the  regularity.  This  was  not  a long 
performance.  It  is  oftentimes  an  hour,  and  even  two  or 
three  hours,  in  duration.  After  this  man  retired,  another 
took  his  place,  and  all  the  time  the.  excitement  in  the 
outer  circle  was  increasing.  Some  shouted,  some  howled 
out  the  name  of  God.  “ Allah ! Allah !”  rang  in  the  dome 
of  the  mosk  from  eighty  voices ; and  now  all  the  mu- 
sical instruments,  including  a dozen  large  and  small 
drums,  added  to  the  terrible  noise. 

Suddenly  the  noble-looking  man,  the  leader  of  the 
revel,  turned  and  faced  the  city  of  the  prophet,  and  in- 
stantly all  was  silent.  Some  fell  on  the  pavement  in  con- 
vulsions, others  stood  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  evi- 
dently past  all  selfcontrol,  w’hile  others  pounded  their 
heads  on  the  stones  and  gnashed  their  teeth.  Those  who 
were  in  fits — for  it  was  nothing  else — of  epilepsy,  were 
taken  care  of  by  attendants,  who  also  advanced  to  those 
who  were  still  standing,  and,  placing  their  arms  around 
them,  bent  them  gently  down  to  their  knees,  and  left 
them  so.  It  was  a scene  not  a little  touching,  after  the 
terrible  confusion,  to  see  those  silent  frames  bowed  down 


88 


AMERICAN  MISSIONARIES. 


before  their  God  iu  the  dim  mosk.  We  came  away  and 
left  them  there. 

All  this  seems  to  the  reader  a story  of  incredible  fanati- 
cism. We  think  so  of  such  stories  when  the  scene  is  laid 
in  remote  countries ; but  I can  not  forbear  remarking, 
that  the  whole  scene  was  startlingly  like  to  many,  very 
many,  that  I have  seen  in  America,  in  religious  assem- 
blies, even  to  the  minutest  particulars.  The  excitement, 
the  throwing  of  the  head  backward  and  forward,  foaming 
at  the  mouth;  the  loud  shouts — “O  Lord!”  “God!” 
“ God  help  us !”  and  the  like ; the  faintings ; the  epi- 
lepsy ; every  thing  was  familiar  to  us,  and  will  be  so  to 
many  who  read  this.  It  is  certainly  a remarkable  fact, 
and  it  is  a fact,  that  in  a zikr  of  the  howling  derweeshes 
of  Cairo  I saw  a scene  more  like  familiar  scenes  in  Amer- 
ica than  any  other  that  I saw  in  Egypt. 

I can  not  close  this  chapter  without  contrasting  this 
with  another  worship  that  we  joined  in  frequently  iu  the 
city  of  Salah-e’deen. 

The  American  mission,  by  what  societies  sustained  I do 
not  know,  is  doing  its  work  silently,  but  successfully,  in 
the  city.  In  the  cholera  season,  when  all  others,  includ- 
mg  the  English  missionary,  fled  in  dismay,  these  young 
men,  and  their  young  wives,  remained  at  their  posts, 
buried  the  dead,  and  consoled,  as  weU  as  they  v>^ere  able, 
the  living,  winning  a position  that  they  wdll  never  lose. 
The  English  residents  presented  them  with  a handsome 
testimonial  of  their  gratitude ; and  I could  wish  some 
more  enduring  record  of  their  bravery  than  these  pages. 

Sometimes  a half  dozen,  sometimes  ten  persons,  always 
more  or  less,  assembled  on  Sunday  afternoon  in  the 
rooms  of  Rev.  Mr.  Martin ; and  here  we  worshiped  God 
in  the  old  home  fashion,  with  the  Psalms  of  David  to 
sing;  and  hence  I am  afraid  that  I must  confess  my 
thoughts  oftener  than  heavenward  went  wandering  back 


A WHIRLIIJO  DERWEESH. 


89 


to  the  old  meeting-house  in  the  up-country,  and  the  be- 
loved voices  that  sang  the  Psalms  there  in  the  long-gone 
years,  and  that  sing  them  nov/  with  David  in  the  upper 
country. 


\ 


8. 

Jd  null  Jl  fUhh. 


Days,  weeks,  and  months,  go  dreamily  along  in  this 
old  land,  and  the  evenings  and  nights  have  holier  star- 
light and  profounder  depths  of  beauty  than  in  any  other 
country  that  my  feet  have  wandered  through. 

For  the  day-time,  whether  in  the  street  among  the 
dark-browed,  liquid-eyed  sons  of  Ishmael,  or  wandering 
over  the  hills  around  the  city,  and  surveying  the  proud 
sites  of  old  glories,  life  was  like  a long  dream. 

Shall  I ever  forget  that  first  evening  after  our  arrival, 
when  Miriam  and  I,  far  wanderers  together  through  life, 
and  to  be  yet  farther  wanderers  together  on  hills  of  Holy 
Land,  stood  on  a mound  to  the  northward  of  the  city, 
one  of  those  inexplicable  mounds  of  broken  pottery,  fifty, 
a hundred  feet  high,  and  broken  earthenware  all  of  it, 
which  surround  Cairo  on  the  north  and  east,  and  looked 
at  the  setting  sun  beyond  the  desert  ? A cool  north  wind 
was  blowing  freshly.  The  donkeys  stood  facing  it,  their 
sharp  ears  erect.  The  boys  lay  on  the  sand  chattering  in 
Arabic  to  each  other.  The  dragoman,  in  full  and  flowing 
dress,  a short  distance  in  the  rear,  stood  in  that  attitude 
of  grace  that  no  one  but  an  Oriental  can  hope  to  attain 
to.  We  four,  the  only  Americans  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt 
Avho  do  not  call  this  their  home,  stood  close  together, 
watching  the  sun  go  down  the  western  sky.  It  was  high 


MOSK  01*  TOOLOON. 


91 


noon  at  home.  New  York  was  bustling,  shouting,  noisy 
New  York  ; and  in  our  homes — how  much  we  would  have 
given  to  know  of  them  at  that  instant — who  can  tell  us 
of  the  beloved  ones  there  ? The  moon  came  out  from  the 
sky,  silver  as  never  moon  was  silver  to  our  eyes  before. 
The  muezzin  calls  had  ceased,  and  the  faithful  had  ceased 
to  pray.  As  the  night  deepened,  object  after  object  dis- 
appeared, and  only  Cairo  the  Blessed  was  before  us,  shin- 
ing in  the  soft  light ; but  away  on  the  horizon,  standing 
on  the  Libyan  desert  edge,  calm,  silent,  solemn,  and  aw- 
ful,, we  still  saw  the  majesty  of  the  pyramids. 

I was  olF,  one  morning,  among  the  mosks  of  Cairo. 
We  directed  our  way  first  to  the  Mosk  of  Tooloon,  which 
is  the  oldest  in  the  modern  city. 

This  is  said  to  be  the  precise  copy  in  miniature  of  the 
great  mosk  at  Mecca,  and  it  is  certainly  the  most  impos- 
ing of  the  Mohammedan  structures  of  Cairo.  Its  very 
age  makes  it  the  more  stately,  though  it  is  now  desecrated 
into  a poor-house.  It  surrounds  a square,  each  side  of 
which  is  perhaps  four  or  six  hundred  feet  long,  and  is 
bnilt  with  pointed  arches,  being  the  earliest  known  speci- 
men of  the  style.  Its  date  is  about  a.  d.  880,  and  its 
huge  columns  stand  as  firmly  as  they  stood  a thousand 
years  ago.  The  minaret,  on  the  western  side  of  the 
court,  is  constructed  somewhat  singularly,  having  a wind- 
ing stairway  outside  the  tower.  Whereof  the  tradition 
is,  that  the  founder,  being  reproached  by  his.  Grand 
Vizier  for  wasting  his  time  in  twisting  a piece  of  paper, 
replied  that  he  was  planning  a minaret  to  his  new  mosk 
up  which  he  might  ride  on  horseback;  and  so  it  was 
made.  But  it  is  not  very  similar,  for  the  staircase  makes 
but  one  turn  around  the  tower. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  profoundly  interesting  to  stand  in  a 
spot  where,  daily,  for  a thousand  years,  the  prayers  of 
men  have  been  offered  up ; where  the  stones  are  worn 


92 


SHAPES  AND  SHADOWS. 


Avith  the  knees  of  sincere  if  mistaken  believers ; Avhere 
there  lias  never  been  a clay,  since  the  ninth  century,  Avhen 
the  voice  of  the  muezzin  Avas  not  heard  across  the  court 
and  through  the  shadoAvy  arches,  uttering  that  simple 
and  sublime  passage  that  has  been  so  often  uttered  above 
this  city,  and  all  the  East,  that  one  might  think  the  air 
Avould  sound  it  Avith  its  OAvn  morning  Avinds  forever  after : 
“ God  is  great.  There  is  no  deity  but  God.  Mohammed 
is  God’s  apostle.  Come  to  prayer,  come  to  prayer ; prayer 
is  better  than  sleep ; come  to  prayer.  God  is  most  great. 
There  is  no  god  but  God.” 

At  noonday  and  at  sunsetting  the  same  chant  has  filled 
these  arches  Avith  solemn  melody.  One  can  not  stand  and 
hear  it  noAV  Avithout  feeling  that  the  A^oice  is  the  same 
A^oice  that  uttered  it  ten  centuries  ago,  though  the  men 
through  AA^hose  thin  lips  it  escaped  on  the  air  are  the  dead 
dust  of  those  centuries.  Age  is  sublime.  A creed,  though 
false,  is  ncA^ertheless  magnificent  if  it  be  old ; and  I can 
not  look  on  these  tottering  Avails,  these  upheaAung  paA^e- 
ments,  these  crumbling  tOAvers,  Avithout  a melancholy  re- 
gret stealing  in  along  Avith  other  feelings,  that  this  Avor- 
ship,  this  creed,  is  approaching  its  end,  and  that  the  day 
is  fast  coming  Avhen  Islam  and  the  creed  of  the  Proj^het 
Avill  be  to  men  like  the  memories  of  Isis  and  Apis — shad- 
OAVS  flitting  around  the  ruins  of  old  Egypt.  In  broad 
daylight,  Avhen  eyes  and  intellects  are  wide  awake,  the 
shadoAvs  are  as  clouds  dark  A\dth  memories  of  crime  and 
wrong ; shapes  of  hideous  deeds,  blackening  the  very 
name  of  humanity. 

But  in  night  time  and  the  moonlight,  Avhen  Ave  do  not 
see  these,  there  Avill  be  shapes  like  halos  around  the  fallen 
minarets  of  Tooloon  and  Amer  as  around  the  obelisk  of 
Heliopolis  and  the  unchanging  pyramids ; memories  of 
simple  but  grand  faith  in  the  hearts  of  old  men  that  Avor- 
shiped  God,  and  died  in  every  year  and  month  of  all  the 


ENGLISH  EGYPT? 


93 


thousands  that  have  shone  upon  these  stones ; shadows 
that  will  forever  haunt  the  places  that  are  sanctified  by 
man’s  holiest  emotions — sincere  and  prayerful  trust  in 
God,  though  it  were  in  a false  god ; shadows  that  are 
changeful,  hut  always  there ; long  shapes  and  forms  cast 
on  the  walls  by  the  altar-flames,  that  remain  and  appear, 
and  flit  here  and  there  on  pavement  and  wall,  though 
altar-flres  be  long  extinguished,  and  the  wall  lie  in  dust 
on  the  broken  pavements  of  the  temple. 

But  is  this  so,  and  is  the  end  aj^proaching  ? 

I asked  myself  the  question  in  the  city  of  Victory, 
seated  at  my  open  window  in  the  night-time,  the  moon 
shining  gloriously — a dazzling  moon — my  table  drawn  to 
tlie  window,  and  the  flame  of  my  candle  rising  steadily, 
and  without  a flicker,  in  the  profoundly  silent  air.  Two 
hundred  thousand  people  were  lying  around  me,  and  I 
asked  who  and  what  they  were,  and  what  part  they 
formed  in  the  grand  sum  of  human  valuation  ? Literally 
nothing.  They  are  not  worth  the  counting  among  the 
races  of  men.  They  are  the  curse  of  one  of  the  fairest 
lands  on  this  earth’s  surface. 

• I had  been  conversing  that  same  day  with  intelligent 
Mussulmans,  who  not  only  expressed  their  ‘belief,  but 
added  their  anxious  hope,  that  the  advance  of  Englisli 
power  in  the  East  would  soon  make  Egypt  an  Englisli 
possession.  I heard  this  everywhere  among  them. 

If  they  knew  any  thing  about  it^ — and  Turks  ought  to 
know  more  of  it  than  Americans — they  would  see  that  it 
is  their  manifest  destiny.  England  begins  to  see  it,  as 
before  she  has  only  wished  it. 

I answered  my  question,  Yes,  tlie  end  is  not  far  distant. 
The  mosk  of  Amer,  traditional  metre  of  the  duration  of 
the  faith,  is  falling.  I saw  with  ray  own  eyes  a huge  piece 
of  its  wall  go  crashing  dov>m  into  the  dusty  court,  where 


94 


MARK  THE  PROPHECY, 


the  still  sunshine  fell  on  it  as  if  it  had  been  waiting;  for  it ; 
and  no  one  will  ever  disturb  its  ruin. 

J ust  before  break  of  day,  from  the  mosk  of  Mohammed 
Ali  at  the  citadel  the  morning  call  to  prayer  sounds  over 
the  city.  The  Sultan  Hassan,  old  Tooloon,  and  another 
and  another  take  it  up,  and  three  hundred  voices  are  filling 
the  air  with  a rich,  soft  chant,  that  reaches  the  ear  of  the 
Mussulman  in  his  profoundest  slumber,  and  calls  him  up 
to  pray.  Does  he  obey  ? There  was  a time  when,  at  that 
call,  the  city  of  Salah-e'deen  had  no  closed  eye,  no  unbent 
knee  in  all  its  walls.  But  the  Mussulman  is  . changed  now. 
He  heard  the  call  in  his  half  drunken  sleep,  stupefied 
with  hashish^  and  he  damned  the  muezzin,  and  turned 
over  to  deeper  slumber.  He  heard  it  in  his  profound  re- 
pose, after  counting  over  the  gains  he  had  made  by  cheat- 
ing his  neighbors,  and  he  did  not  feel  like  praying.  He 
heard  it  on  the  perfumed  couch  of  his  slave,  and  he  forgot 
the  prophet’s  in  the  present  heaven.  He  heard  it — yes, 
there  were  a few  old  men,  who  remember  the  glory  of 
the  Mamelukes ; who  heard  their  fierce  shouts  when  the 
Christian  invaders  met  them  at  the  jDyramids ; and  who, 
wearied  with  long  life,  look  now  for  youth  and  rest  in 
heaven,  and  they,  when  they  heard  the  call,  obeyed  it, 
and  theirs  were  the  only  prayers  wasted  on  the  dawning 
light  in  all  of  Cairo,  and  when  they  cease  there  will  be 
none  to  pray. 

This  is  no  fancy  ificture.  Mark  the  prophecy.  Our 
days  may  be  few,  but  there  are  men  living  now  who  will 
see  the  crescent  disappear  from  the  valley  of  the  Nile, 
and  who  will  build  their  houses  from  the  sacred  stones  of 
the  mightiest  rnosks  in  Grand  Cairo.  The  beginning  of 
this  end  is  visible  already,  but  who  can  foresee  what  is  to 
follow  ? 


1 


SHEIK  IIOUSSEIK  IBN-EGID. 


9. 

Sl)eili  I|-oii§§eiiii  j[5io-egi3. 

Who  that  has  read  eastern  travel  books  for  the  last 
half  century  has  not  heard  the  fame  of  the  great  Sheik 
of  the  Alaween  ? I remember  when  I was  a boy  that  I 
sympathized  deeply  wdth  some  one,  of  whose  robbery  by 
the  redoubted  sheik  I read  a sorrowful  history,  and  after 
that,  in  book  after  book,  as  I heard  of  this  and  that  trav- 
eler driven  away  from  Petra  by  this  old  man,  or  robbed 
by  his  extortions,  I used  to  think  it  would  be  a pleasant 
morning’s  walk  to  meet  him  and  rid  the  desert  of  such  an 
enemy  of  safe  journeying.  What  a capital  shot  it  would 
be  at  the  robber  sheik,  with  a cut  rifle  and  a well-greased 
ball ! These  boyish  notions  never  left  me,  and  I frequently 
caught  myself  w'ondering  whether  I should  ever  meet  the 
sheik  and  fight  him  or  fly  him. 

I met  him  when  I least  expected  it. 

As  w^e  were  riding  up  the  Mouski,  Miriam  and  myself, 
on  our  way  to  the  bazaars  one  afternoon,  we  were  startled 
and  arrested  by  an  apparition  that  was  not  to  be  allowed 
to  pass  unnoticed. 

Seated  on  a splendid  sorrel  mare,  whose  quick  roving 
eye  was  ill  at  ease  in  the  street  of  the  city,  was  an  old 
man,  whose  face  was  the  face  of  a king.  His  dress  was 
rich  and  elegant,  but  such  as  we  had  not  yet  seen  in 
Cairo.  He  wore  no  shoes,  stockings,  nor  trowsers.  The 

5 


98 


A BEDOUIN  COSTUME. 


dust  of  the  desert  was  on  his  bare  feet  and  ankles.  Over 
a shirt  of  the  richest  brocade  was  worn  a cloak  of  crimson 
cloth  worked  with  gold,  and  over  this  a cloak  of  black, 
concealing  all  that  was  under  it,  except  when  it  was  ex- 
posed by  accident.  A cashmere  sash  was  wound  around 
his  waist,  binding  the  shirt  only,  in  the  folds  of  which 
gleamed  pistols  and  knives  more  than  I could  count.  His 
head  was  covered  with  a shawl  of  brown  silk,  the  heaviest 
work  of  the  looms  of  Damascus,  and  it  was  held  in  its 
place  by  a woolen  cord,  heavy  enough  to  hang  a man, 
wound  around  the  crown  of  his  head  above  the  forehead 
and  ears. 

But  the  dress,  strange  and  elegant  as  it  was,  was  a 
matter  of  subsequent  observation  to  us.  It  was  the  face 
of  the  man  that  struck  us,  and  riveted  our  attention.  He 
was  an  old  man.  I did  not  then  know  how  old.  But  his 
eye  was  brighter  than  the  eye  of  a young  eagle.  The 
suns  of  the  desert  for  a hundred  years  had  not  served  to 
dim  one  ray  of  its  brilliance.  I never  saw  such  an  eye. 
It  2^ierced  me  through  and  through.  His  features  were 
chiseled  with  the  sharpest  regularity,  and  his  eye  lit  them 
up  so  that  he  seemed  every  inch  a prince.  And  yet  he 
was  of  diminutive  form,  small,  slender,  and  his  naked  foot, 
that  rested  in  the  shovel  stirrup>,  was  thin  and  bony  to  the 
extreme. 

We  had  with  us  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti,  a young 
Egyptian  dragoman,  with  whom  we  were  about  closing 
an  arrangement  for  our  voyage  southward.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  Bedouin  sheik,  Abd-el-Attl  sprang  from  his 
donkey  and  rushed  up  to  him,  seizing  his  hand  and  kissing 
it,  and  the  two  exchanged  the  long  series  of  Oriental 
blessings,  with  alternate  touches  of  the  breast  and  fore- 
head, which  invariably  signalize  a meeting  between  friends 
long  parted. 

Meantime  we  stood  looking  curiously  at  the  scene,  and 


A GREAT  SHEIK. 


99 


in  a few  moments  the  old  sheik  turned  his  horse  toward 
us,  and  Ahd-el-Atti  informed  me  that  he  was  my  old  en- 
emy the  Sheik  Houssein  Ibn-egid,  the  most  powerful  of 
the  Bedouin  chiefs  from  Cairo  to  Mecca. 

The  old  man  touched  my  hand,  and  as  we  each  lifted 
our  fingers  to  our  lips  after  the  grasp,  we  exchanged  a 
long,  steadfast  gaze,  "which^eemed  to  satisfy  him,  for  he 
laughed  quietly  to  himself,  and  he  asked  me  if  I were 
going  to  Wady  Mousa.  Probably  he  thought  me  worth 
robbing,  as  he  saw  a lady  in  my  company,  and  such  par- 
ties are  usually  best  stocked  with  plunderable  articles. 

Sheik  Houssein  is  an  old  man.  Here  men  say  that  he  is 
over  a hundred  years  of  age,  and  that  his  descendants  of 
the  fourth  generation  are  full  grown  men,  stout  and  strong 
on  the  desert.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  is  a man  well  known 
in  the  world,  and  his  fame  has  gone  from  Europe  to 
America  in  the  letters  of  travelers  who  have  met  him  on 
the  desert  among  his  five  thousand  followers.  There  he 
is  a chieftain  to  be  dreade’d.  He  has  but  to  lift  a handful 
of  dust  and  blow  it  into  the  air  with  his  thin  old  lips,  and 
three  thousand  Bedouins  are  in  the  saddle  at  his  call.  He 
is  the  guardian  of  Petra,  with  whom  all  who  desire  to  see 
the  Pock  City  must  make  peace  and  friendship. 

But  how  came  the  Sheik  Houssein  within  the  walls  of 
a city,  and  how  came  his  mare  to  be  treading  the  filthy 
streets  of  Cairo,  through  the  narrow  passages  shut  out 
from  the  sky — for  where  we  met  them  there  was  no  sky 
visible,  the  street  itself  being  roofed  over  with  reeds  to 
keep  out  the  sun  ? The  story  is  somewhat  long,  but  I 
will  make  it  as  brief  as  possible. 

Some  time  ago  the  caravan  from  Suez  to  Cairo  was 
robbed  of  a camel  loaded  with  indigo.  The  Sheik  Ibm 
sh-deed,  who  rules  the  desert  from  Cairo  to  the*Ped  Sea, 
is  responsible  to  the  government  of  Egypt  for  the  safety 
of  the  caravan.  He  has  hostages  in  the  city  to  secure 


100 


RAMADAN"  EFFENDI. 


that  responsibility.  It  was  immediately  evident  that  none 
of  his  tribe  had  committed  the  theft,  and  it  was  soon  as 
evident  that  it  was  the  act  of  two  men  belonofinsr  to  a 

O O 

tribe  nearer  to  Akaba,  and  bordering  on  the  tribes  that 
owe  allegiance  to  the  Sheik  Houssein.  Indeed,  some  evi- 
dence was  given  that  they  were  actually  men  under  that 
old  Sheik’s  power.  • 

Among  the  Arabs  still  prevails  that  j>atriarchal  form  of 
government  which  makes  the  sheik  the  father  of  his  en- 
tire tribe.  If  one  of  them  is  in  trouble — it  matters  noth- 
ing whether  it  be  his  son  or  the  poorest  wretch  of  his 
retainers — he  will  sacrifice  his  life  for  him,  and  every  man 
of  the  entire  tribe  is  bound  to  do  the  same.  The  venera- 
tion for  the  sheik,  and  his  care  over  them,  is  in  every 
respect  like  that  of  a father  for  his  sons,  and  children  for 
their  j^arent.  Accordingly,  when  one  is  knoTO  to  have 
committed  a crime,  no  trouble  is  taken  to  catch  him. 
Any  one  of  the  same  tribe  is  quite  the  same  thing.  Ar- 
rest him  if  you  can,  bring  him  to  Cairo,  and  send  word 
to  his  sheik  that  he  will  remain  in  prison  till  the  thief  is 
produced  at  the  prison-door,  and  all  the  tribe  are  at  work 
instantly  to  secure  the  right  man,  taking  care  at  first  to 
exhaust  all  means  of  effecting  the  escape  of  the  one  who 
has  been  taken. 

Ramadan  Effendi,  one  of  the  officers  of  government  in 
high  standing,  th^  third  officer  in  the  Transit  Department 
' — who  is  the  cousin  and  the  brother-in-law  of  Abd-el-Atti 
— went  on  an  expedition  to  catch  one  of  the  tribe  at 
whose  door  lay  the  charge  of  this  robbery.  How  adroit- 
ly he  managed  his  business ; how  he  inveigled  two  of 
them  into  an  ambuscade,  and  then  sprang  on  them  and 
bound  them  ; how  the  whole  tribe  dogged  his  retm’ning 
way  with  his  captives ; how  he  took  them  in  one  of  the 
passenger  vans  to  cross  from  Suez  among  the  English 
passengers,  and  thus  escaped  the  vigilance  of  the  Bedou- 


CAGED  EAGLES. 


101 


ins;  and  how  he  deposited  them  in  chains,  under  bolt 
and  bar,  in  Cairo,  had  been  the  subject  of  town  talk  for 
a month  past  among  those  who  had  known  the  circum- 
stances. Still  there  remained  a doubt  as  to  whether 
the  robbers  were  of  this  tribe,  and  it  was  desirable  to 
catch  a man  from  the  tribes  that  acknowledge  the  su- 
premacy of  the  Sheik  Houssein,  and  thus  make  the  mat- 
ter certain. 

I went  to  the  prison  to  see  these  caged  eagles — call 
them  rather  vultures—but  they  Avere  splendid  felloAvs. 
One  of  them  was  the  son  of  the  sheik  of  his  tribe,  and 
is  celebrated  as  the  man  who  dared  to  brave  Mohammed 
Ali.  Not  many  years  ago,  when  that  bold  man  had  im- 
prisoned the  Sherreef  of  Mecca  in  the  citadel  of  Cairo, 
this  Bedouin  came  under  the  wall  of  the  citadel  on  the 
desert  side — where  it  is  fifty  feet  high — and,  Avith  ropes 
and  his  OAvn  sharp  wit  to  aid  him,  entered  the  citadel, 
liberated  the  sherreef,  lowered  him  to  the  desert  sand, 
placed  him  on  his  own  dromedary,  and,  AAuth  a shout  of 
triumph,  dashed  away  into  the  desert.  Eighty  horses,  of 
the  swiftest  that  the  viceroy  possessed,  in  vain  followed 
the  escaped  captive. 

He  sat  and  smoked  his  pipe  calmly  as  I stood  and 
looked  at  him.  It  was  strongly  suspected  that  he  Avas 
one  of  the  robbers  himself.  It  AA^as  very  certain  that  he 
would  hang  at  the  Bab  Zouaileh  if  some  one  else  Avere 
not  speedily  taken. 

But  the  caravan  of  the  pilgrims  from  Mecca  was  com- 
ing over  the  desert.  This  is  the  annual  event  of  Cairo. 
The  departure  and  the  return  of  the  Hadg  are  the  two 
great  festivals  of  the  year,  and  the  caravan  had  just 
arrived  on  the  desert  outside  the  city  on  the  day  of  Avhich 
I speak — and  was  waiting  the  order  of  the  pasha  to  enter 
the  gates  and  march  in  procession  to  the  citadel.  Three 
thousand  camels  were  scattered  here  and  there  over  the 


102 


SHEIK  HOUSSEIN  CAPTURED. 


sand-hills,  and  the  scene  Avas  one  of  the  finest  and  most 
picturesque  pageants  that  we  have  ever  witnessed. 

A glance  at  the  map  will  show  any  reader  that  the  pil- 
grims, in  crossing  from  Mecca  to  Cairo,  pass  immense 
deserts,  and,  of  course,  through  the  dominions  of  various 
Bedouin  tribes.  To  each  of  these  tribes  the  Hadg  pays 
a certain  sum  for  protection  and  safe  passage.  By  spe- 
cial instructions  sent  to  them  this  year,  the  ofiicers  in 
charge  of  the  caravan  made  a dispute' with  Sheik  Hous- 
sein,  on  passing  through  his  country,  as  to  the  kind  of 
dollar  to  be  paid  to  him — the  rate  having  been  fixed  in 
piastres.  The  Hadg  offered  the  sheik  French  dollars  at 
current  rates,  and  he  demanded,  as  no  doubt  he  was  en- 
titled, to  receive  them  at  government  rates,  which  w^ould 
give  him  about  three  piastres  more  on  every  twenty. 
The  result  was  that  they  refused  to  pay  him  any  thing 
until  they  should  arrive  at  Cairo,  and  settle  the  dispute 
there.  To  this  he  agreed,  and  accompanied  the  caravan 
to  Cairo ; and  he  was  just  entering  the  city  when  we  met 
him  in  the  Mouski. 

A fate  that  he  little  anticipated  awaited  him.  While 
we  talked  in  the  street,  some  fifty  soldiers  had  gathered 
around  us,  and  the  old  man  found  himself  arrested. 

But  he  was  not  the  man  to  exhibit  emotion.  Xo  one 
would  have  supposed  that  the  occurrence  was  other  than 
what  he  had  come  for,  as  he  quietly  asked  me  to  go  with 
him  to  the  diwan  of  Mustapha  Capitan. 

It  was  impossible  to  desert  him  under  such  circum- 
stances. Indeed  I had  no  objection  to  seizing  an  oppor- 
tunity of  befriending  this  universal  enemy  of  travelers. 
Accordingly  we  rode  with  him,  two  hundred  yards,  to 
the  Transit  office. 

We  were  shown  into  an  upper  room,  where  sat  Mus- 
tapha Capitan,  the  chief  officer  of  the  Transit  Department 
at  Cairo,  and  Ramadan  Effendi,  who  is  the  next  in  rank. 


MUSTAPHA  CAPITAL’S  DIWAN. 


103 


Mustaplia  occupied  the  corner  of  the  diwan,  and  room 
was  immediately  made  for  Miriam  and  myself  on  his 
right,  where  we  sat  while  coffee  was  served.  Ramadan 
sat  on  our  left,  Abd-el-Atti  being  at  hand  to  interpret  in 
case  of  necessity.  The  room  was  crowded  to  sufibcation 
with  men  in  every  variety  of  eastern  costume,  not  less 
than  fifty  of  them  being  Bedouins  of  every  tribe  be- 
tween Jerusalem,  Mecca,  Akaba,  and  Cairo ; the  Sheik 
Ibrahim,  whose  tribe  is  between  Gaza  and  Heliopolis, 
with  a dozen  of  his  followers — dark,  swarthy  fellows,  in 
blank:ets  and  shawls;  Ibn-sh-deed,  whom  I have  before 
mentioned,  with  as  many  of  his  retainers ; Suleiman, 
from  Akaba,  a noble-looking  man,  with  a fine,  intelligent 
face,  clothed  in  a brown  robe,  over  a brown  silk  shirt, 
with  a shawl  of  the  same  color  on  his  head,  the  ends  of 
which  hung  to  his  feet,  and  with  him  three  darker  and 
more  devilish-looking  Bedouins  than  I have  elsewhere 
seen.  If  one  met  them  on  the  desert,  one  would  com- 
mence turning  his  pockets  wrong  side  out  before  they 
had  opened  their  lips. 

The  diwan  extended  across  the  upper  end  of  the  room. 
In  front  of  it  was  a small  open  space,  in  the  centre  of 
which  the  old  sheik  stood,  and  behind  him  those  that  I 
have  named,  in  a semicircle,  and  then  the  dense  mass  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  room. 

It  v/as  not  necessary  to  explain  to  Sheik  Houssein  why 
he  was  detained.  He  heard  them  speaking  of  the  lost 
camel,  and  he  knew  the  story  well,  for  every  Bedouin  in 
Arabia  knew  it  a month  ago.  But  he  strode  forward 
into  the  semicircle,  and  while  he  gathered  his  cloak 
around  him  with  his  left  hand,  raised  his  thin  right 
hand  over  his  head,  and  stood  in  an  attitude  of  grace 
that  I have  never  but  once  seen  equaled.  The  resem- 
blance to  the  iSTorth  American  Indian  was  startling. 
Every  gesture  was  similar  ; and  the  eloquence  was  the 


104 


BEDOUIN  ELOQUENCE. 


same  natural  flow  of  fierce,  biting,  furious  words,  yet  full 
of  imagery  and  beauty.  I understood  but  Jittle  Arabic 
as  yet,  but  I could  follow  him  through  nearly  all  that  he 
said — asking  Abd-el-Atti  occasionally  for  a word  or  an 
idea — so  perfect  was  his  gesture,  and  in  such  perfect 
keejflng  with  his  subject. 

Occasionally  Mustapha  interrupted  him  with  a ques- 
tion, and  he  replied.  The  substance  of  what  he  said  was 
that  he  knew  of  the  robbery,  knew  who  did  it,  knew 
where  the  man,  camel,  and  indigo  all  were,  but  that  they 
were  all  out  of  his  jurisdiction  ; they  were  in  the  adjoim 
ing  tribe,  and  he  would  not  undertake  to  catch  the  thief, 
simply  because  it  was  none  of  his  business.  If  he  should 
do  it,  his  own  life  would  not  be  worth  an  hour’s  purchase ; 
and  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  throw  it  away  for 
Said  Pasha,  a man  to  whom  he  owed  nothing,  and  whom 
he  did  not  love,  respect,  or  fear.  If  the  government  of 
Egypt  wanted  the  man  enough  to  send  an  officer  for  him 
who  would  take  the  responsibility  of  catching  him,  then 
he  would  aid  him ; but  he  would  not  risk  his  life  to  do 
that  in  which  he  had  no  interest. 

Some  severe  expressions  were  used  by  Mustapha  Caph 
tan,  which  roused  the  old  sheik’s  anger,  and  he  shook  his 
fore  finger,  while  the  room  rang  with  his  deep,  guttural 
voice.  “ I am  an  old  man ; I knew  Said  Pasha’s  father ; 
and  long  before  Mohammed  Ali  sat  on  the  diwan  in  Cairo  1 
was  sheik  in  Wady  Mousa.  Said  Pasha  may  think  him^ 
self  somewhat  of  a man,  because  he  is  in  the  seat  of  his 
father.  My  son,  you  are  a boy.  You  have  caught  me 
in  Cairo ; but  if  I meet  you  outside  the  gates  of  your 
city — if  I meet  you  on  the  desert  sand — I will  show  yon 
who  is  Sheik  Houssein ! Kill  me  here  now,  if  you  dare  j 
and  I have  five  sons,  old  men  all,  who  will  seek  my  blood 
on  the  stones  of  Cairo.  Ko,  no,  Mustapha  Capitan  ; no 
no,  Hassan  Pasha ; Sheik  Houssein  is  not  to  be  treated 


CHAFF  FOR  AN  OLD  BIRD. 


105 


like  a boy!  What  will  become  of  your  caravan  next 
year,  and  the  year  after  that  ? Send  ten  thousand  men 
with  it  to  guard  it  by  the  mountains  of  Sheik  IIous- 
sein,  and  from  every  rock  and  hiding-place,  will  he  rain 
death  on  them,  and  the  ten  thousand  men  will  lie  on  the 
sands.  You  dare  not  harm  this  old  head!  I am  not 
afraid  of  you,  though  I stand  here  in  your  strong  house, 
in  the  heart  of  your  great  city.  The  man  does  not  live 
who  dares  to  harm  me.  Woe  be  to  you,  Mustapha  Capi- 
tan,  woe  be  to  Said  Pasha,  if  I go  not  out  free  from 
Cairo  and  unharmed !” 

The  room  was  silent  for  a moment,  as  the  old  man 
took  breath  after  this  burst  of  defiance,  and  then  every 
voice  rang  at  once  in  a storm  of  dissension,  dispute,  de- 
mand, refusal,  defiance,  anger,  and  fury.  This  subsided 
as  Sheik  Houssein  again  raised  his  voice,  and  hurled 
his  anathemas  on  Said  Pasha  and  the  Egyptian  govern- 
ment. Meantime  Mustapha  Capitan  sat  calmly  in  the 
corner  of  the  diwan,  and  Miriam  and  myself  sat  as  calmly 
by  his  side.  I confess  that  I thought  once  or  twice  that 
if  this  storm  of  words  should  result  as  it  would  have  been 
likely  to  result  in  any  other  part  of  the  world,  our  chance 
would  have  been  poor  to  reach  the  door  through  a hun- 
dred Arabs,  every  one  of  them  fully  armed. 

But  the  audience  was  over.  Mustapha  had  had  enough 
of  the  sheik,  and  he  broke  up  the  sitting  by  a nod.  We 
went  out  with  the  crowd ; and  as  the  room  opened  out 
on  the  large  roof  of  the  lower  building,  the  Bedouins  sat 
down  on  the  stones  of  the  roof,  and  we  sat  down  in  a cir- 
cle composed  of  the  four  sheiks  that  I have  mentioned 
and  ourselves,  attended  by  Abd-el-Atti.  Here  we  re- 
mained an  hour  longer,  listening  to  the  wily  attempts  of 
the  others  to  jDersuade  the  old  man  into  a promise  to 
produce  the  thief.  It  was  in  vain ; he  was  not  to  be 
caught.  Accordingly  I proposed  to  Abd-el-Atti  to  take 

5* 


106 


A BAIL  BOND. 


the  old  man  'svitli  ns  and  visit  the  otlier  j^risoners.  I was 
anxious  to  see  their  meeting.  He  went  with  us. 

As  he  entered  the  prison-door  they  advanced  to  meet 
him ; and  the  first  one,  the  son  of  a sheik,  met  him  with 
outstretched  arms,  kissing  him  on  each  cheek,  and  receiv- 
ing his  kiss  in  return,  then  pressing  his  forehead  against 
the  old  man’s  forehead,  both  standing  silent  and  motion- 
less for  thirty  seconds  in  that  graceful  and  strange  posi- 
tion, their  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  The  other  prisoner 
received  a similar  salute,  but  not  so  impressive.  The  first 
2>risoner  was  dressed  in  the  j^lainest  and  most  common 
gray  blanket  of  the  Bedouins.  It  was  wound  around  his 
body,  and  the  corner  was  thrown  over  his  head ; and 
yet  his  slave,  who  Jiad  come  to  him  from  his  far-off 
home  across  the  desert,  was  as  richly  dressed  as  any  man 
in  the  assembly,  in  silk  and  cashmere,  and  I might  also 
have  remarked,  was  one  of  the  loudest  talkers  in  the 
audience-room ; for  here  slaves  talk  freely  before  their 
masters,  and  dispute  with  them  fearlessly. 

IMusta^fiia  Caifitan  ordered  the  Sheik  Houssein  to  be 
detained  in  the  j^i'ison  all  night.  Woe  to  Mustapha  if  he 
sets  his  foot  on  the  desert  sand  east  of  Suez  after  this. 

I asked  Abd-el-Atti  if  there  was  not  such  a process  as 
giving  bail  known  to  Moslem  law.  There  was,  but  it  was 
only  honor.  If  a man  of  reputation  would  promise  on 
his  religion  to  inoduce  the  prisoner,  he  might  be  given 
into  his  custody. 

So  we  arranged  it.  I never  knew  exactly  how  much 
my  word  had  to  do  with  it,  or  whether  it  was  Abd-el- 
Atti’s  religion  or  mine  that  Mustapha  Capitan  depended 
on.  Abd-el-Atti  arranged  it  with  Mustaj^ha  Capitan, 
guarantying  his  appearance  when  the  government  should 
call  for  him.  The  sheik  was  handed  over  to  him  and 
he  brought  him  down  to  me  at  the  hotel. 

After  this  he  remained  for  two  weeks  our  constant  at- 


A PHOTO  GRAP  H. 


107 


tendant,  passing  tlie  nights  with  Abd-el-Atti  at  his  house 
and  reporting  himself  every  morning  to  the  authorities. 
He  was  all  this  time  like  a caged  tiger,  quiet,  but  with  a 
furious  eye.  His  gratitude  to  Abd-el-Atti,  for  saving  him 
from  that  worst  affliction  known  to  an  Arab,  a night  un- 
der bolt  and  bar,  knew  no  bounds.  He  prayed  God  that 
he  might  see  him  at  Wady  Mousa,  and  as  he  was  old  he 
promised  the  gratitude  of  his  sons  and  descendants  to  re- 
mote generations. 

“ What  will  you  do  to  Abd-el-Atti,  when  he  comes  to 
your  tent  ?”  I asked. 

He  turned  his  eye  up  to  Abd-el-Atti  with  a good- 
natured  laugh,  and  drew  his  finger  across  his  throat. 

I laughed  at  his  jesting  threat,  and  asked  him  what  he 
would  do  to  Mustapha  Capitan  if  he  ever  came  to  Wady 
Mousa.  His  face  sobered  in  an  instant ; he  looked 
with  his  flashing  eyes  at  me,  and  was  silent  for  a moment. 
Then  he  growled  rather  than  spoke, 

“ You  know  very  well  what  I will  do  to  Mustapha 
Capitan  or  to  Said  Pasha,  if  either  of  them  comes  within 
my  reach.”  • 

“ How  old  are  you  ?”  I asked  him,  as  we  sat  smoking 
our  chibouks  in  affectionate  proximity  one  morning  at  the 
front  door  of  Williams’s  hotel  under  the  shade  of  the  leb- 
bek  trees. 

“ My  children’s  grand-children  ride  on  horses,”  was  the 
reply. 

While  he  remained  with  us,  I had  his  photograph  taken 
by  an  artist  who  was  passing  through  Cairo  on  his  way 
to  India.  The  old  man  sat  like  a statue.  The  first  im- 
pression taken  proved  a failure,  and,  after  an  interval  of 
ten  minutes,  the  artist  proposed  to  seat  him  again.  It 
was  unnecessary.  He  was  in  the  chair,  and  he  had  not 
moved  hand  or  foot — I don’t  think  he  had  winked — since 
the  first  sitting. 


108 


AN  ANCIENT  BOX. 


This  picture  is  an  accurate  likeness  of  a Bedouin  sheik 
in  full  costume,  precisely  as  we  were  accompanied  by  him 
from  day  to  day ; the  reader  may  rely  on  the  accuracy 
of  the  camera,  and  not  suppose  that  fancy  has  added  a 
line. 


10. 

Jlilh)  JibeHlj. 

The  administration  of  justice  in  Egypt  is  a curious  af- 
fair. As  I was  riding  homeward  that  day,  after  leaving 
the  old  man  of  the  desert,  I met  a camel  carrying  a large 
box  which  contained  a huge  tiger.  The  animal  was 
growling  furiously,  as  every  swing  of  the  camel  sent  him 
now  to  one  end  of  the  cage  and  now  to  the  other.  I was 
comparing  him  to  the  old  chief.  ^N’ever  were  two  more 
alike.  While  I was  looking  at  him,  two  tall  stout  men, 
Europeans,  dismounted  from  donkeys  which  they  had 
hired,  and  refused  to  pay  the  owner  for  them.  On  his 
insisting,  one  of  them  struck  him.  Whereat  he  became 
more  earnest  in  his  demands  for  his  money,  but,  was  still 
perfectly  respectful,  though  he  held  the  Frank  firmly  by 
the  folds  of  his  dress.  The  latter,  enraged  at  the  perti- 
nacity of  the  Arab,  struck  him  with  his  cane,  and  then 
gave  him  a terrible  beating.  I never  saw  a man  so 
thoroughly  thrashed.  He  struck  him  over  his  head  and 
back,  his  legs  and  his  bare  arms,  bringing  blood  at  every 
blow.  He  beat  him  across  the  street  and  actually  into 
the  open  court  of  the  police  office,  where  sat  fifteen  or 
twenty  police  officers,  smoking  sedately  and  calmly.  Ho 
one  of  them  moved  from  his  seat,  or  spoke.  Twenty 
other  donkey  men  rushed  in  to  the  rescue,  and  the  Frank 
broke  his  cane  over  the  head  of  his  victim,  and  then  took 


110 


TREATY  PROVISIONS. 


to  European  swearing.  The  next  instant  he  rushed  out 
into  the  street,  around  the  corner  of  the  building,  to  an 
old  man  who  sells  bamboo  and  rattans,  bought  a stout 
bamboo  for  a piastre,  and  returned  to  the  charge.  Again 
the  poor  Arab  took  it,  and  when  he  was  thoroughly  tired 
the  Frank  left  the  crowd  and  walked  along  the  street  as 
coolly  as  if  he  had  but  been  whipping  a dog. 

This  is  an  every  day  occurrence  in  the  streets  of  the 
city,  and  I mention  it  in  connection  with  the  arrest  of 
the  Sheik  Houssein  as  showing  what  experience  I had  in 
one  afternoon  of  the  manner  of  administering  justice  in 
Cairo  the  Blessed. 

The  explanation  of  this  strange  scene  in  the  police  of- 
fice is  this. 

By  our  treaty  with  Turkey,  and  by  the  treaties  of  all 
civilized  nations,  it  is  provided  that  no  American,  English- 
man, or  in  general  no  citizen  or  subject  of  either  of  the 
powers  so  protected  by  treaty,  shall  be  tried  for  any  of- 
fense by  Turkish  law,  but  every  offender  shall  be  tried  by 
the  law  of  his  own  land.  The  substance  of  this  is,  that  he 
shall  be  handed  over  to  the  consul  of  his  gOA^ernment,  and 
he  sends  him  home  for  trial  without  witnesses — of  course 
without  possibility  of  conviction. 

Hence  foreigners  may  commit  crime  with  absolute  im- 
punity, except  for  the  blood  revenge,  which  authorizes 
and  requires  relatives  to  avenge  the  death  of  their  con- 
nections. 

As  a result  of  this,  every  consul  in  Egypt  has,  what  are 
called  protegh^  the  list  varying  from  hundreds  up  to 
thousands.  I beg  especial  attention  to  this  enormity  of 
fraud,  in  Avhich  our  government  is  an  innocent  participa- 
tor, a fraud  on  the  Egyptian  and  Turkish  governments 
which  all  civilized  nations  are  combined  in  perpetrating. 

Our  present  consul,  Mr.  De  Leon,  is,  I believe,  totally 
free  from  any  blame  in  the  matter.  He  found  a list  of 


A GREAT  WRONG . 


Ill 


American  subjects,  entitled  to  protection,  left  him  by  his 
predecessors,  and  he  has  done  what  he  could  to  diminish 
the  extent  of  the  injury  to  the  nation  which  this  system 
brings  about.  But  what  is  he  alone  among  the  crowd 
of  foreign  consuls,  each  one  a petty  sovereign  by  virtue 
of  this  system.  Its  ramifications  extend  everywhere  in 
Turkish  dominions.  I found  it  at  Jaffa,  at  Jerusalem,  at 
Smyrna,  and  at  Constantinople. 

Out  of  this  system  icholly  arose  the  Kosta  difficulty^ 
and  though  this  has  given  us  a terrible  reputation  in  the 
East,  and  one  which  secures  profound  respect  for  Amer- 
icans, because  the  Mediterranean  nations  have  gotten  the 
idea  that  we  are  a filibustering  nation,  ready  to  come  and 
seize  on  their  ports,  palaces,  and  thrones,  yet  this  whole 
thing  Avas  Avrong  from  beginning  to  ending. 

No  one  in  America  understood  precisely  hoAV  the 
thing  could  occur,  or  hoAV  the  commodore  and  consul 
dared  to  act  as  they  did.  But  this  system  explains  it. 
If  Kosta  had  been  a full-blooded  Turk,  and  never  out  of 
Turkey  in  his  life,  had  his  name  been  found  on  the  con- 
sul’s lists  of  proteges^  the  same  course  Avould  have  been 
taken  in  carrying  out  the  system.  There  are  hundreds 
of  such  names  on  our  consids'  lists/  Men  who  never 
breathed  any  freer  air  than  that  of  Mohammedan  coun- 
tries— whose  forefathers,  to  the  days  of  Esau,  Avere 
Asian,  and  whom  their  oAvn  government  dare  not  lay 
finger  on,  because  of  this  claim  of  protection  on  the  part 
of  the  American  government.  Observe  hoAV  it  works. 
A JeAv,  doubtless  direct  in  his  line  of  descent  from  the 
JeAvs  of  the  time  of  Jeremiah  in  Egypt,  Avhose  father, 
and  grandfather,  and  great  grandfather,  Avere  money- 
changers in  the  JeAvs’  quarter  of  Cairo,  killed  a man  in 
the  street,  and  Avas  arrested  and  imprisoned.  An  En- 
glishman who  saAv  him  kill  the  man,  and  AA^ho  caused  his 
arrest,  is  my  informant. 


112 


A MURDERER. 


His  conviction  was  certain ; his  guilt  clear  as  daylight. 

But,  two  days  after  his  arrest,  he  sent  for  the  French 
consul,  had  a long  interview  with  him,  and  the  next  day 
the  consul  showed  his  name  in  his  list  of  proteges^  and 
demanded  his  delivery  to  him.  The  government,  of 
course,  yielded  to  the  demand. 

As  a necessary  consequence  of  this  system  travelers 
have  no  protection  against  each  other,  and,  on  the  river, 
every  man  looks  to  his  arms  as  his  only  guard. 

The  time  has  arrived  when  this  system  should  be 
changed.  It  is  iniquitous,  from  first  to  last,  and  it  is 
only  in  the  fact  that  our  present  consul,  Mr.  De  Leon,  is 
an  able,  upright,  and  trustworthy  man,  that  Americans 
can  have  any  confidence  for  safety  while  in  Egypt. 

In  connection  with  this  subject,  I may  here  speak  of 
the  general  administration  of  justice  in  Egypt. 

The  days  of  Mohammed  Defterdar  are  passed,  and 
better  times  are  come;  still  the  wheels  of  justice  move 
much  on  golden  axles,  and  there  is  room  for  great  reforms 
in  justice  and  in  practice. 

The  viceroy  is  an  autocrat.  He  says  kill,  and  they 
kill. 

While  I was  in  Cairo,  he  gave  Mohammed  Bey,  chief 
of  the  police  in  Cairo,  seven  days  in  which  to  detect  a 
murderer,  and  on  the  eighth  morning,  the  murderer  being 
still  at  large,  his  friends  had  permission  to  bury  Moham- 
med Bey’s  headless  trunk. 

The  religion  is  the  only  law  of  the  country.  By  it  the 
Khadee  rules  and  judges  as  he  did  in  the  days  of  Haroun 
el  Rasheed. 

I heard  one  day  that  a murder  had  been  committed  in 
the  broad  street  of  the  city,  and  I went  over  to  the  police 
office  to  see  the  process  of  justice  in  such  a case. 

It  was  a curious  scene.  On  the  floor  of  the  room  sat 
the  prisoner,  literally  loaded  with  chains.  He  had  a chain 


THE  BLOOD  REVENGE. 


113 


on  each  wrist,  and  one  as  heavy  as  a small  ship’s-cable 
going  around  his  body  and  over  his  shoulders.  It  was  a 
ridiculous  formality,  too ; for  it  was  very  manifest  that 
he  had  but  to  shake  himself  and  they  would  drop  off, 
even  to  the  last  link. 

Opposite  to  him  sat  four  women,  facing  him.  They 
were  heavily  vailed,  but  they  watched  him  with  flashing 
eyes.  They  were  the  relations  of  the  dead  man,  attend- 
ing here  to  see  that  he  was  avenged.  The  law  of  blood 
for  blood  is  omnipotent. 

I inquired  into  the  process  of  the  law  with  such  a man. 
“ When  will  he  be  tried  ?” 

“ In  a month  or  two.” 

“ Do  you  make  up  any  calendar  of  cases  for  trial  ?” 

“ Oh,  no.” 

“How  do  you  remember  that  such  a case  is  to  be 
tried  ?” 

“ They  (the  women)  will  see  that  we  don’t  forget  him.” 
“ Is  there  no  other  way  of  remembering  it  ?” 

“ Xone  ; the  blood  revenge  will  keep  them  active. 
W^'  shall  need  no  other  reminder.” 

“ Where  will  he  remain  meanwhile  ?” 

“ In  prison.” 

“ At  whose  expense  ?” 

“ His  own.” 

“ Do  you  feed  prisoners  ?” 

“ Not  a mouthful.” 

“ Who  does  feed  them  ?” 

“ Their  friends.” 

“ If  they  have  none  ?” 

“ What  ?” 

“ If  they  have  no  friends  ?” 

“ Never  heard  of  such  a case.” 

“ But  if  it  did  occur  ?” 

“ I suppose  he  must  starve.” 


114 


THE  MAKHMIL. 


Such  is  the  simple  routine  of  justice.  Primitive,  and 
certainly  effective,  I have  no  doubt  that  justice  is  as 
evenly  administered  in  this  same  Cairo,  as  in  Christian 
Xew  York  or  London.  Look  ye  to  it,  who  would  make 
Christian  lands  better  than  Moslem  ! 

Shortly  after  my  first  interview  with  Sheik  Houssein, 
the  procession  of  the  Makhmil  took  place,  which  is  the 
final  breaking-up  of  the  annual  pilgrimage,  by  depositing 
the  Makhmil  in  the  mosk  of  Mohammed  Ali  at  the  cit- 
adel. 

This  procession  is  ordinarily  one  of  the  grandest  events 
of  the  Cairene  year.  The  departure  of  the  pilgrims  is 
the  time  for  more  display,  but  the  scene  is  not  more  in- 
teresting, perhaps  not  as  interesting. 

The  caravan  had  been  waiting  on  the  desert,  outside 
the  city  walls,  for  the  pasha’s  order  that  it  should  enter, 
and  this  at  length  was  issued  at  a late  hour  on  the  even- 
ing before.  Xo  one  knew  of  it,  and  we  should  not 
have  heard  of  it  but  for  the  faithfulness  of  our  servant, 
who  was  up  at  his  prayers  before  daylight,  as  every  good 
Mussulman  should  be,  and  saw  the  soldiers  passing  on 
their  way  out  of  the  city  to  meet  the  caravan  ; so  he  came 
and  roused  me,  and  called  a carriage  instanter.  It  had 
been  decided  beforehand  that  we  should  have  a carriage 
instead  of  going  on  donkeys,  because,  in  the  first  place, 
we  should  be  better  able  to  see  in  a crowd,  and  in  the 
second  place,  should  be  less  liable  to  insult  from  the  crowd. 
For  on  the  day  of  this  procession,  from  time  immemorial, 
Mussulmans  have  been  permitted  to  insult  Christians  with 
impunity,  and  the  boys  are  accustomed  to  do  so. 

The  Makhmil  is  a somewhat  curious  affair.  Few  Mo- 
hammedans can  tell  you  what  it  is,  though  they  venerate 
it,  and  look  forward  and  back  to  its  arrival  as  the  great 
event  of  the  religious  year. 

Long  years  ago — let  us  not  be  particular  about  dates — 


SHEIK  HOUSSEIN  AGAIN. 


115 


a certain  royal  lady,  a queen,  made  the  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca,  and  for  her  use  had  a gorgeous  car  or  camel  litter 
made,  in  which  she  rode  all  the  way.  The  next  year  she 
did  not  go  on  the  pilgrimage,  but  she  sent  her  camel  and 
her  litter,  and  it  was  carried  by  the  pilgrims  each  succes- 
sive year,  until  they  forgot  the  origin  of  the  custom  and 
made  it  a religious  rite.  Each  year  a most  gorgeous 
canopy  is  made — a new  one  every  year — at  the  expense 
of  the  government,  and  this  goes  and  returns  empty.  On 
its  return,  it  is  held  most  sacred.  The  people  rush  to 
touch  it  ^Wth  their  fingers.  They  press  their  foreheads 
and  lips  to  the  fringe,  and  rejoice  at  the  blessing  their 
eyes  have  in  looking  at  it. 

We  were-  effectually  insured  against  insult  when  we 
met  Sheik  Houssein  and  took  him  into  the  carriage.  The 
old  man  did  not  exactly  like  to  sit  in  such  an  affair.  He 
said  he  preferred  to  be  on  his  horse,  and  w-hen  Miriam 
explained  to  him  that  we  much  preferred  carriages  in 
our  cities,  he  promised  that  when  she  came  to  Wady 
Mousa,  he  would  give  her  such  a horse  as  w-ould  make 
her  forswear  all  wheeled  vehicles  thenceforth.  He  looked 
anxiously  around  him  as  we  went  along  through  the 
crowd  that  was  pouring  to  the  part  of  the  city  where  the 
procession  was  to  pass.  We  drove  on  rapidly,  a runner 
preceding  us  and  clearing  the  way.  I wished  to  reach 
the  Bah  cl  Na8i\  the  gate  of  victory,  before  the  entrance 
of  the  procession,  but  I w^as  too  late  for  it.  We  met 
them  in  the  narrowest  part  of  the  way,  and  the  officers 
w^ho  preceded  the  procession  turned  our  horses’  heads, 
so  that  we  -were  obliged  to  head  the  procession  and  drive  - 
back  till  we  came  to  a convenient  turn  out,  where  we 
could  stop  and  let  them  pass.  This  place  we  found  and 
there  saw  them. 

The  procession  was  headed  by  the  camels  which  had 
accompanied  the  HaclJ  to  Mecca  and  back.  Then  followed 


116 


DESERT  SHIP  S. 


the  escort  of  cavalry  and  foot  sent  out  to  meet  them. 
Behind  these  came  the  sacred  camel,  bearing  the  makhmil. 
It  was  indeed  a gorgeous  affair,  blazing  with  the  purest 
gold.  No  tinsel  work  about  this.  Its  value  was  incalcu- 
lable. The  camel  was  almost  hidden  by  the  fringe  of 
precious  metal,  and  the  balls  and  crescents  shone  like  suns 
and  moons.  The  whole  crowd  shouted  and  did  reverence 
to  it  as  it  passed. 

The  Mohammedan  sign  of  reverence  is  made  by  placing 
the  palm  of  the  open  hand  on  the  forehead,  and  drawing 
it  down  to  the  chin ; every  man,  woman,  and  child  did 
this,  and  then  shouted.  The  air  rang  with  the  peculiar 
cry  of  joy  which  the  women  utter  on  all  festive  occasions, 
a long  gurgling  sound  that  no  one  can  imitate  who  is  not 
born  in  the  East.  Behind  the  makhmil,  on  a camel,  sat  a 
derweesh,  naked  to  the  waist,  who  is  a somewhat  celebrated 
character,  and  an  important  part  of  the  procession.  His 
head  rolls  as  if  it  were  not  attached  to  his  shoulders,  but 
only  lay  there,  and  every  motion  of  the  camel  sent  it 
around.  This  motion  is  never  known  to  stop  from  the 
time  the  makhmil  leaves  the  citadel  of  Cairo  on  its  way  to 
Mecca  until  its  return.  Possibly  in  the  night  time,  when 
no  one  is  near,  he  may  rest  and  sleep,  but  this  is  denied, 
and  it  is  asserted  and  believed  that  he  never  rests  an  in- 
stant or  ceases  this  strange  motion. 

Following  him  are  the  camels  of  the  lulgrims,  with 
their  canopies  and  their  families  in  them.  The  camel  litter 
is  composed  of  two  boxes,  swung  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
camel,  covered  with  one  tent-hke  canopy.  In  each  box 
are  some  of  the  riders,  or  possibly  they  balance  the  x^erson 
on  one  side  by  the  baggage  on  the  other,  if  the  family  is 
not  large  enough  to  fill  both. 

These  are  the  desert  ships  of  old  fame.  Five  thousand 
of  them  were  in  the  caravan  when  they  left  Suez,  but 
more  than  two  thousand  hastened  on,  and  had  been  scat- 


A MYSTERIOUS  SUBJECT. 


117 


tered  to  their  various  homes  a week  or  more  before  the 
arrival  of  the  main  body.  Hence  the  procession  was  not 
as  full  as  usual. 

After  the  camels  came  the  guard  of  the  caravan-,  a reg- 
iment of  wild-looking  rascals  of  every  nation  under  the 
eastern  sun,  dressed  in  more  costumes  than  there  are 
countries  in  Asia  and  Africa,  and  these  closed  the  pro- 
cession, which  was  altogether  the  strangest  that  we  have 
ever  been  witnesses  of.  They  passed  us  and  went  on 
through  the  Bab  Zouaileh,  which  is  one  of  the  most 
stately  edifices  in  the  city,  and  so  on  up  to  the  citadel. 
The  Bab  Zouaileh  is,  as  its  name  imports,  a gate.  Before 
the  days  of  Salah-e’deen  it  was  the  most  southern  gate 
of  Cairo,  but  when  that  prince  extended  the  city,  and 
built  the  citadel,  this  gate  was  left  in  the  midst  of  the 
houses,  and  stands  to  this  day  a monument  of  the  great- 
ness of  that  celebrated  warrior. 

It  is  withal  one  of  the  most  sacred  places  in  Cairo,  and 
while  superstition  even  among  Mussulmans  shrinks  from 
public  gaze,  here  it  is  displayed  to  the  utmost. 

The  Kuth  is  the  most  holy  of  the  Mohammedan  saints. 
Xo  man  can  tell  who,  what,  or  where  he  is.  His  residence  is 
always  in  the  flesh,  always  in  some  Mussulman.  That  man 
knows  it,  and  only  he.  When  he  dies,  it  passes  to  another. 
This  Kutb,  or  Wellee,  has  the  gift  of  ubiquity,  or  rather 
the  power  of  instantaneous  change  of  place.  One  gate  of 
the  Bab  Zouaileh  is  never  closed,  but  has  stood  for  hun- 
dreds of  years  shut  back  against  the  wall  of  the  archway. 
Behind  this  is  the  place  of  the  Kuth^  where  oftentimes  the 
passing  Mohammedan  casts  a sudden  look,  hoping  to  see 
him. 

Upon  this  gate  every  Mohammedan  who  has  had  a 
tooth-ache,  hangs  the  extracted  tooth,  thinking  thereby 
to  be  insured  against  a recurrence  of  the  malady.  Hence 
the  gate  presents,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  a curious  ap- 


118 


TOOTH  ANODYNE. 


pearance.  Some  hundreds  of  grinders  of  every  size  and 
sort  are  placed  in  the  cracks,  or  attached  by  strings  to 
various  i:>arts  of  the  massive  portal ; and  a dentist  might 
make  his  fortune  by  selecting  from  them.  Some  of  them 
are  inclosed  in  small  bags,  but  the  large  majority  arc  in 
their  native  purity,  or  impurity. 

Over  the  gate  did  hang  until  it  fell  away  in  the  winds, 
the  rope  by  which  Toman  Bey,  the  last  sultan  of  the 
Baharite  dynasty,  was  hung  in  1517,  and  until  very  re- 
cently the  ghastly  heads  of ^ the  slaughtered  Mamelukes 
grinned  on  the  turrets  above  it.  Without  the  gate  is  the 
spot  still  used  for  the  execution  of  certain  criminals,  al- 
though it  is  now  a crowded  bazaar. 

The  procession  over,  I drove  back  to  the  hotel,  drop- 
ping the  sheik  on  the  way.  His  release  at  length  came. 
The  government  paid  him  off,  and  allowed  him  to  depart. 
He  came  down  to  bid  me  good-by,  and  urged  me  to  visit 
him  in  Wady  Mousa. 

We  parted  excellent  friends.  He  promised  me  all  man- 
ner of  attentions  in  Wady  Mousa,  if  I would  come,  and 
I have  no  doubt  he  would  have  treated  me  nobly.  But  I 
never  saw  him  again,  and  the  old  man  will  be  dead  when 
I go  to  Wady  Mousa.  I heard  of  him  in  the  following 
spring.  As  I was  groping  my  way  by  torchlight  through  the 
grand  caverns  that  underlie  the  north-east  corner  of  Jeru- 
salem, a gentleman  who  was  with  me  on  that  curious 
exj^loration,  and  who  was  one  of  an  English  party  just 
arrived  across  the  desert  from  Cairo,  happened  to  men- 
tion Petra. 

“ Did  you  go  to  Petra  ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Why  not  ?” 

“ Why,  the  old  Sheikh  of  the  Alaween — ” 

“ Sheikh  Houssein  Ibn-egid  ?” 

“ Yes — do  you  know  him  ?” 


A TOILET  BOX 


119 


“ I tliink  I do  and  I laughed  loud  and  long,  without 
waiting  for  his  story,  for  I knew  that  my  old  friend  was 
at  his  work  again.  He  had  scared  them  away  from 
Wady  Mousa.  But  I had  faith  to  believe  that  he  would 
be  glad  to  see  me  there. 


ii. 

J 1]  e ^ 1]  r)  f 0 hi . 

How  I wandered  about  the  streets  of  Cairo;  how  I 
visited  the  citadel,  and  again  and  again  explored  that 
deep  rock-hewn  well  of  Yusef  Salah-e’deen,  known  as  the 
well  of  Joseph  ; how  I stood,  hour  by  hour,  on  the  front 
of  the  unfinished  palace  of  Mohammed  Ali,  and  looked 
off  at  the  Nile  and  the  j^yramids ; how,  day  by  day,  we 
rode  down  to  the  boat,  and  watched  her  progress  in 
fitting  up,  and  bargained  here  and  there  for  provisions 
and  powder,  flags  and  frying-pans,  hams  and  hammers ; 
how,  in  one  of  my  hasty  gallops  up  the  Mouski,  my 
donkey  slipped  and  plunged  me  into  the  open  arms  of  an 
old  Turk,  whom  I was  compelled  to  console  by  buying  of 
him  a half  dozen  of  brandy,  which  brandy,  O friend,  bear 
in  mind  Avhen  I come  to  tell  of  the  ascent  of  the  cataract ; 
how  Trumbull  and  myself  consulted  all  night  about  the 
comforts  for  the  ladies,  and  worked  aU  day  on  little 
nothings  which  seemed  of  huge  importance  then ; how 
we  smoked  pounds  of  Latakea  over  our  volumes  of 
Champollion,  and  the  maps  of  Jacotin  which  Trumbull, 
with  infinite  skill,  had  copied  in  America,  and  brought 
with  him ; how  we  rode  out  to  the  superb  Shoubra 
gardens  of  Halim  Pasha,  the  viceroy’s  brother,  and 
sunned  ourselves  in  the  corridor  that  ran  around  the 
great  fountain  wherein  foolish  and  false  tradition  saith 


MOHAMMED  ABD-EL-ATTI. 


121 


Mohammed  Ali  was  accustomed  to  keep  pet  crocodiles, 
and  overturn  boat-loads  of  his  wives ; how  we  did  not 
see  the  fair  odalisques  in  these  bowers,  as  one  fanciful 
author  describes  his  own  good  luck,  for  the  reason  that 
they  are  never  open  when  the  ladies  are  abroad  in  them, 
but  then  rigorously  shut  even  to  men  slaves  of  the  pasha; 
how  we  dreamed  away  a month  of  luxurious  life  in  El 
Kahira  the  Victorious : are  not  all  these  things  for  our 
own  memories,  and  too  much  and  too  many  to  be  recited 
here  ? 

Abd-el-Atti  was  a young,  well-built,  active  Egyptian, 
with  a face  much  like  a Xorth  American  Indian’s.  His 
complexion  was  copper-colored,  his  eyes  black  and  rather 
unsteady.  After  the  Xile  voyage  I took  him  with  me  to 
Syria ; and,  having  had  him  for  a servant  during  nearly 
eight  months  of  constant  travel,  I think  I know  the  man 
perfectly. 

His  temper  was  violent,  but  I had  no  difficulty  with  it. 
Like  all  dragomans,  he  was  anxious  to  make  money,  and 
could  see  but  one  view  of  a money  question.  I had  no 
trouble  with  him  on  that  score  either.  If  I yielded  to 
him  in  one  instance,  I made  him  yield  in  the  next.  If  the 
traveler  will  look  out  for  his  temperament,  and  treat  him 
kindly,  as  a good  servant  should  be  treated,  I have  no 
hesitation  in  recommending  him  as  the  most  accom2ffished 
dragoman  in  Egypt  or  the  East. 

He  had  lived  some  years  in  England  and  France,  spoke 
the  language  of  those  countries,  Italian,  Turkish,  and 
his  own,  the  Arabic — read  and  wrote  Arabic  weU,  which 
was  a great  desideratum  for  our  purposes,  and  had  seen 
travel  and  adventure  enough  to  be  able  to  tell  and  manu- 
facture large  stories  for  our  amusement,  when  there  was 
nothing  better  to  do.  I give  here  our  contract  with  him 
verbatim. 


6 


122 


A NILE  CONTRACT. 


Ccntrart. 

We,  the  undersigned,  J.  Hammond  Trumbull,  and  W. 
C.  Prime,  with  Mrs.  Trumbull  and  Mrs.  Prime,  have  this 
day  agreed  with  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  for  a trip  uj^  the 
Nile,  on  the  following  conditions: 

1.  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  engages  to  provide  a com- 
fortable boat,  with  awning  and  jolly  boat ; to  furnish  said 
boat  with  beds,  bedding,  tables,  china,  glass,  water  filters, 
and  all  and  every  requisite  necessary  for  the  convenience 
and  comfort  of  first-class  passengers. 

2.  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  agrees  to  provide  all  stores, 
provisions,  candles,  lights,  etc.,  as  shall  be  necessary  for 
the  entire  voyage.  Also  to  provide  as  many  courses  for 
breakfast,  dinner,  etc.,  as  shall  be  required  by  the  above 
parties. 

3.  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  agrees  to  provide  and  pay 
for  one  cook,  one  servant,  and  one  assistant,  to  wash 
clothes,  etc.,  during  the  entire  A^oyage. 

4.  Under  the  above  conditions  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti 
agrees  to  take  Messrs  Prime  and  Trumbull,  and  party,  to 
Es  Souan,  and  back  again  to  Cairo,  for  the  sum  of  tAA^o 
hundred  and  twenty-five  jDounds  in  gold,  giving  them  fif- 
teen days’  stoppage  on  the  \myage,  at  any  place  or  places 
they  may  Avish  to  stop  or  remain  at,  and  providing  don- 
keys and  guides  for  Ausiting  any  such  places. 

5.  For  the  first  fifteen  days  of  stoppage,  exceeding  the 
above  period,  that  they  may  Avish  to  remain  below  the 
first  cataract,  they  Avdll  pay  to  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  the 
sum  of  three  j)ounds  fifteen  shillings  per  diem. 

6.  For  any  period  they  may  Avish  to  remain  below  the 
first  cataract,  after  the  expiration  of  the  above  provided 
period,  they  shall  pay  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti  the  sum  of 
three  pounds  per  day  for  each  day. 

7.  Should  the  aboA^e  parties,  after  their  arrival  at  the 
first  cataract,  Avish  to  proceed  to  the  second  cataract,  Mo- 
hammed Abd-el-Atti  agrees  to  take  them  on  in  the  same 
boat,  and  same  style,  and  they  shall  then  pay  him  the 
sum  of  sixty-seven  pounds  ten  shillings  for  the  trip  be- 
tween the  tAVO  cataracts  and  back,  and  they  shall  have 
three  days  for  stoppage,  for  Ausiting  such  places  as  they 
may  desire.  And  if  they  shall  desire  to  stop  more  than 


THE  PHANTOM. 


123 


three  days  above  the  first  cataract,  then,  for  every  day 
of  stoppage  above  three,  they  shall  pay  him  at  the  rate 
of  three  pounds  per  day. 

8.  It  is,  moreover,  fully  understood  that  Mohammed 
Abd-el-Atti  is  to  pay  aU  presents  on  the  voyage ; to  pay 
all  donkey  hire,  guides,  guards,  etc. ; to  pay  the  expenses 
of  taking  the  boat  up  and  down  the  cataracts,  and  all  and 
every  present  to  crew,  sailors,  reis,  pilot,  or  persons  on 
shore,  during,  and  at  the  end  of  the  voyage. 

9.  It  is  understood  that,  if  the  party  should  go  to  the 
second  cataract,  then  the  provision  for  days  of  stoppage 
over  fifteen  days  below  the  first  cataract  is  altered,  and 
they  shall  pay  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti,  in  that  case,  only 
three  pounds  per  day  over  the  first  fifteen  days  provided 
for,  for  every  day  more  than  such  fifteen  that  they  may 
wfish  to  stop. 

Dated,  at  Cairo,  this  2 7111  day  of  October,  1855. 

N.  B.  The  boat  is  to  be  procured  and  equipped,  and 
the  trip  to  commence  as  soon  as  possible. 

Signed  by  the  Americans. 

Sealed  by  Mohammed  Abd-el-Atti. 

Under  this  contract  he  selected  a boat,  which  we  ex- 
amined and  approved,  and  he  proceeded  to  fit  and  fur- 
nish her.  When  this  was  done  we  hoisted  the  American 
flag,  and,  for  a signal,  a white  flag  with  one  large  blue 
star  in  the  centre,  and  named  her  from  the  name  of  a 
boat  not  unknown  to  fame  in  our  home  circles.  The 
Phantom. 

There  was  something  pleasant  in  the  idea  of  calling  our 
Nile  boat,  that  spread  her  lofty  wings  on  the  air,  white 
and  very  ghost-like  in  the  light  of  a November  moon 
in  Egypt,  by  the  name  of  that  gallant  boat  which  has 
weathered  so  many  Atlantic  gales  along  the  coast  of 
America,  and  with  which  many  recollections  of  pleasant 
days,  and  pleasant  life,  and  beloved  friends,  are  con- 
nected. 

But  she  was  a very  difierent  craft.  Seventy  feet  long 
by- thirteen  broad,  she  carried  a mast  stepped  away  for- 


124 


FERRAJ  THE  TRUSTY. 


ward,  about  thirty  feet  high.  On  the  to|)  of  this,  swing- 
ing by  a rough  rope  tackle,  was  the  long  yard,  tapering 
from  one  heavy  end  below  to  a point  sixty  or  seventy  feet 
above  the  deck,  and  this  carried  the  large  triangular  sail. 
Another  smaller  mast,  stepped  at  the  extreme  stern,  on 
the  after-rail,  carried  a small  sail  of  the  same  shape,  which 
was  managed  by  ropes  rigged  out  on  a pole  projecting 
ten  feet  behind  the  boat. 

The  cabins  occupied  all  the  after  part  of  the  boat,  and 
rose  five  feet  above  the  deck,  the  floor  being  sunk  two 
feet  below  it.  Thus  we  had  ample  height  of  ceiling,  and 
with  a dining-room,  one  large  and  two  small  sleeping- 
rooms,  closets,  and  wash-room,  we  had  a small  house  in 
which  four  persons  could  live  very  comfortably.  The 
furniture  of  the  boat  was  oriental,  of  course;  but  two 
American  rocking-chairs,  part  of  a Yankee  importation 
into  Alexandria  two  years  ago,  made  things  look  some- 
what natural  within  the  cabin,  and  no  one  could  suggest 
an  improvement  on  our  arrangements. 

Darkest  of  Nubians  externally,  and  brightest  in  intel- 
lect, was  Ferraj,  our  first  cabin  servant.  Never  was  there 
a blacker  or  a better  fellow.  Ten  years  ago  Abd-el-Atti 
found  a crowd  of  slaves  at  Wady  Halfeh,  in  the  slave-pen 
on  the  bank  of  the  river.  He  took  a bag  of  dates  in  his 
hand,  went  among  them,  and  sprinkled  them  on  the 
ground.  The  black  crowd  sprang  after  them,  and  gath- 
ered them  up  gladly.  He  saw  one  small  boy  of  seven  or 
eight  that  was  unable  to  get  any,  and  he  was  struck  with 
his  appearance.  Eight  pounds  bought  him.  He  named  him 
Ferraj  (Trusty),  and  took  him  to  Cairo.  From  that  time 
they  have  been  inseparable,  and  their  affection  for  each 
other  is  an  excellent  illustration  of  that  ordinarily  subsist- 
ing between  master  and  slave  in  oriental  countries.  He 
taught  him  to  read — an  accomplishment  in  this  country 
which  but  one  in  a thousand  can  boast  of — and  having 


PILGRIM  AND  COOK. 


125 


brought  him  up  with  the  utmost  care,  made  him  a good 
Mussulman  and  a first-rate  servant.  He  gave  him  fifty 
pounds  and  his  freedom  two  years  ago.  But  they  are  as 
inseparable  as  ever,  and  the  Nubian  always  accompanies 
his  master  on  his  expeditions  with  travelers.  He  is  not 
more  than  eighteen,  but  would  pass  for  twenty-two,  and 
stands  six  feet  in  his  stockings. 

Ferraj  remained  with  us  as  long  as  Abd-el-Atti,  and  it 
would  be  almost  impossible  to  say  how  much  we  became 
attached  to  him.  Seek  him  out,  O traveler  to  Egypt,  and 
thank  me  for  telling  you  of  a treasure  to  a wandering 
Howajji. 

Hassan,  the  boy,  was  about  fifteen,  with  a face  of  per- 
fect beauty,  even  for  a woman’s.  It  was  a luxury  to  look 
at  his  dark  olive  complexion,  and  into  his  deep  thoughtful 
eyes.  He,  too,  spoke  a little  English,  but  not  so  much  as 
Ferraj.  The  latter  could  think  English,  if  he  could  not 
speak  it  always. 

“ What’s  that  ?”  I asked  him  one  morning,  as  he 
brought  in  a dish  and  placed  it  on  the  table  at  break- 
fast. 

“ I not  know  what  you  call  it.  It’s  what — is — in  my 
head,”  and  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  wool,  thereby  to  sig- 
nify that  it  was  a dish  of  brains ! 

One  morning,  as  we  sat  smoking  at  the  door  of  the 
hotel,  Abd-el-Atti  brought  up  a little  shut-eyed,’  laugh- 
ing Egyptian,  dressed  in  flowing  trowsers  and  embroid- 
ered vest  and  jacket,  with  a turban  of  voluminous  folds 
on  his  head,  and  red  slippers,  with  sharp  up-turned  toes, 
on  his  feet. 

“ This  is  Hajji  Mohammed  Mustapha,  the  cook.” 

I looked  at  him  and  at  Trumbull.  Trumbull  looked  at 
him  and  at  me. 

I was  faithless,  but  submissive.  How  gloriously  I was 
converted.  What  royal  dishes,  what  inventions  of  ge- 


126 


M 0 NEY  CHANG  IN  G. 


nius  worthy  of  Ude,  what  gastronomic  powers  that  wily 
little  Egyptian  possessed.  I took  him  to  Syria,  too.  I 
would  have  brought  him  here  if  I could.  His  resources 
were  inexhaustible,  and  he  needed  thrashing  only  once 
in  all  my  dealings  with  him ; that  was  when  an  English 
gentleman,  who  had  dined  with  me  at  Nazareth,  made 
him  a laughing  offer,  and  he  actually  deserted  me  then 
and  there,  and  left  me  to  starve  on  a frying-pan  and  an 
Arab  boy.  I reformed  him  back  in  a twinkling  after  I 
caught  him,  and  I think  there  was  a tear  in  his  eye  when 
I parted  from  him  at  Beyrout. 

But  I linger  too  long  in  Cairo.  My  last  piece  of  work 
was  to  sit  three  mortal  hours  by  a Jew  money-changer, 
who  did  ten  pounds  of  gold  into  copper  money  for  me, 
which  we  carried,  or  a man  for  us,  to  the  hotel,  to  fur- 
nish small  change  on  the  upper  river.  This,  and  about 
four  times  as  much  more,  belonging  to  Abd-el-Atti,  stood 
on  our  boat  in  open  baskets  during  our  whole  voyage — 
accessible  to  any  fingers,  but  always  safe. 

At  four  in  the  afternoon  the  last  cart,  car,  van,  break, 
or  whatever  may  be  the  proper  name  of  the  Egyptian 
vehicle  drawn  by  a single  bullock,  was  at  the  door  of  the 
Indian  Hotel,  where  we  had  now  been  for  six  weeks.  A 
half  dozen  loads  had  previously  gone  down  to  Boulak  to 
the  boat,  and  on  this  we  piled  our  trunks  and  small  arti- 
cles, and  then  surveyed  our  empty  rooms  with  no  regret. 
We  were  glad  to  be  away,  although  every  hour  had  been 
pleasantly  employed,  and  a year  would  not  suffice  to  show 
the  stranger  all  the  graceful  minarets,  stiange,  quaint 
lattices,  exquisite  arches,  and  lofty  mosks  of  the  city  of 
Salah-e’deen.  But  the  Nile  was  forever  flowing  by,  laden 
with  stories  of  Karnak,  of  Philse,  and  of  Abou  Simbal, 
and  we  grew  anxious  to  be  away  on  its  waters. 

The  Phantom  lay  at  the  bank  of  the  river  in  the  rear 
of  the  house  of  its  owner.  Passing  through  the  house 


ALL  ABOARD 


127 


by  an  arched  passage  and  climbing  down  a filthy  bank, 
the  rubbish-heap  of  the  family,  we  reached  the  deck  and 
took  possession  of  the  vessel. 

The  “ monarch  of  all  I survey”  idea  was  the  prominent 
one  at  first;  but  there  was  too  much  work  on  hand  to 
allow  of  its  being  enjoyed.  Trimks,  boxes,  crates  of 
turkeys,  coops  of  chickens,  carpets,  mats,  oranges,  fruits 
of  all  kinds,  guns,  pistols,  coats,  shawls,  and  the  hundred 
et  ceteras  of  a winter  outfit  lay  in  indescribable  confusion 
everywhere.  Out  of  this  chaos  we  proceeded  to  extract 
order,  and  having  at  length  accomplished  our  design  in  a 
measure,  we  discharged  our  donkey-boys  with  the  cus- 
tomary bucksheesh,  and  wrapping  around  us  our  cloaks 
and  shawls,  for  the  air  was  chilly  as  we  came  out  of  the 
cabin,  we  went  up  on  the  cabin  deck  and  ordered  all 
clear  for  the  start. 

I could  for  a moment  fancy  myself  on  the  deck  of  the 
old  Phantom  in  western  waters,  but  only  for  a moment. 

“Are  you  all  ready  there?”  That’s  the  English  of 
my  question,  which  in  Arabic  was  a single  interrogative 
word,  “ Hadah 

The  answer  was  tolerably  good  English,  if  it  was  pure 
Arabic — “ Aioicah^''  not  unlike  an  American  sailor’s 
“ Aye,  aye.”  “ Cast  ofi*  then — go  ahead  Reis  Hassanein.” 

This  last  command,  profane  as  it  sounds,  had  no  refer- 
ence to  the  Reis’s  visual  organs.  The  order  in  Arabic  is 
*‘'‘Godam  Ya  Peis  Hassanein^  literally,  “Forward,  Cap- 
tain Hassanein.”  We  fired  thirteen  guns,  and  the  Phan- 
tom fell  off  on  the  current  from  the  shadow  of  the  houses 
into  the  glorious  moonlight  on  the  Xile. 

Never  was  such  an  hour  for  departure  on  the  voyage. 
The  sky  was  fathomless  in  its  deep  blue  beauty.  The  Nile 
was  yellow  gold  under  us.  Minaret  and  dome  stood  up 
in  the  silent  air,  and  shed  a softer  light  than  the  moon’s 
own  rays,  while  far  away,  solemn  and  majestic,  the  so- 


128 


DREAMS. 


lemnity  that  of  immortality,  the  majesty  that  of  centuries, 
stood  the  pyramids  of  Ghizeh,  gray  and  solemn  in  the 
light  of  their  old  companion.  How  contemptuously  the 
moon  and  the  j^yramids  looked  down  on  us  sexage- 
narians of  the  nineteenth  century  after  the  coming  of 
our  Lord ! How  swiftly  the  river  rushed  by  us,  on  to 
the  sea  that  had  received  it  for  so  many  ages,  heedless  of 
the  passing  travelers  whose  lives  would  be  as  brief  as  the 
shadow  of  the  sail  passing  between  the  moon  and  the 
wave ! 

It  was  an  hour  for  dreams,  if  dreaming  were  possible 
where  all  that  was  real  was  dreamy — where  the  trees 
were  lofty  palms,  waving  their  crowns  to  and  fro  on  the 
starry  sky — where  the  shores  were  the  dust  of  dead  Pha- 
raohs and  the  children  of  Jacob  and  Joseph — where  the 
buildings  were  domes  and  minarets,  and  over  all  the  an- 
cient pyramids — where  the  stars,  calm  and  steadfast,  have 
looked  down  on  a hundred  dynasties  of  kings,  on  the 
graves  of  a score  of  nations — where  Moses  taught  and 
Plato  learned,  and  where  the  infant  eyes  of  the  Son  of 
God  looked  up  to  His  and  our  home. 

I wrapped  my  Syrian  cloak  closely  around  me,  for  it 
was  cold  at  first,  and  sitting  on  the  cabin  deck  watched 
the  curious  operations  of  my  new  crew,  and  endeavored 
for  an  hour  to  learn  the  philosophy  of  their  ways  of  doing 
things.  But  I was  puzzled  beyond  endurance.  When 
they  wished  to  turn  the  boat’s  head,  they  pulled  pre- 
cisely the  oar  I should  have  let  alone;  and  when  they 
wished  to  take  the  wind,  they  flattened  the  sail  to  it  with 
as  sharp  an  edge  as  they  could  possibly  manage.  This  was 
the  fashion  with  every  thing,  and  so  continued  through- 
out the  voyage.  The  boat,  in  fact,  managd  itself,  sailed 
and  steered  itself,  and  did  every  thing  but  make  itself 
fast  and  cast  off.  Indeed  it  did  cast  off  once  in  a Avhile, 
and  I woke  to  find  her  drifting  quietly  to  a sand-bank 


NIGHT  IN  CAIRO. 


129 


or  a rock,  while^  every  man  on  the  boat  was  sound 
asleep. 

An  hour  passed,  and  the  wind  had  failed  us.  We  lay 
under  the  Ghizeh  shore  of  the  river,  with  lofty  palms 
over  our  heads,  a boat  with  an  English  party  on  board 
lying  a hundred  yards  from  us,  and  profound  silence  rest- 
ing on  the  river  and  shore.  Even  the  soft  ripple  of  the 
river  seemed  but  to  make  the  silence  audible,  and  no  one 
could  imagine  a city  with  two  hundred  thousand  inhab- 
itants on  the  bank  of  the  stream  by  our  side. 

This  is  a strange  characteristic  of  Cairo  in  the  night. 
With  the  simset  every  one  goes  home.  Here  and  there 
a lantern  is  visible  in  the  evening,  as  some  belated  pedes- 
trian hurries  along;  but  there  are  no  street-lamps,  no 
windows  to  the  houses  shining  out  on  the  passers-by,  no 
sparkling  shop-lamps,  no  shoppers,  theatre-goers,  diners- 
out,  or  other  late  walkers  along  the  highway  ; the  city  is 
in  profound  darkness,  and  the  river  flows  by  as  silent  a 
shore  as  where  the  desert  comes  down  to  it  on  east  and 
west  in  Nubia.  The  oldest  Egyptian  that  lay  in  stone 
sarcophagus,  or  painted  mummy-box  at  Sakkara,  slept 
not  more  profoundly  than  I that  first  night  on  the  river. 


6* 


8oi|il)ix){|i*5  ifo] 


Like  the  music  of  a dream,  like 
the  sounds  one  hears  in  waking 
hours  that  are  given  to  visions, 
sweeter  than  the  voices  of  birds, 
far  sweeter  than  sound  of  organ 
in  cathedral  or  choir,  be  it  ever  so 
triumphant,  came  over  the  river,  at 
the  break  of  day,  the  muezzin’s  call 
to  prayer.  From  the  mosk  of 
Mohammed  Ali,  at  the  citadel,  high  up  above  all  Cairo,  it 
came  first.  The  Sultan  Hassan  took  it  up,  and  old  Too- 
loon,  and  far-off  Ghalaoon  and  El-Azhar,  and  I even 
heard,  or  thought  I heard,  the  old  man’s  voice  who  sings 
to  the  sands  of  the  desert  that  roll  around  the  tomb  of 
Ghait  Bey.  It  came  swelling  like  the  sound  of  a harp- 
string, until  the  four  hundred  mosks  of  the  City  of 
Saladin  took  it  up,  and  it  filled  the  charmed  air  with 
sweet  and  holy  melody.  “ Prayer  is  better  than  sleep — 
awake  and  pray.” 

It  was  not  yet  light,  but  the  footsteps  of  the  day  were 
in  the  east ; and  he  came  on,  now  with  a faint  gray  light 
over  the  Mokattam  hills,  now  T\uth  a flush  of  crimson  on 
the  white  and  gossamer-like  minarets  of  the  mosk  of 
Mohammed  Ali,  and  now  with  the  full  burst  of  sunlight 
on  the  valley  of  Memphis  and  On. 


AN  OBLIGING  GOVERNMENT. 


131 


A light’  breeze  now  stole  up  the  river,  and  we  made 
sail.  Running  slowly  along  on  the  \vest  side  of  the  isl- 
and of  Rhoda,  and  passing  the  palace  of  Hassan  Pasha 
and  the  busy  scene  at  the  ferry  of  Old  Cairo,  we  lost  the 
city,  and  were  on  the  most  lordly  of  rivers.  We  were 
stopped  by  a hail  from  the  shore,  and  on  approaching 
found  a messenger  from  the  government-office  which  had 
sent  us  the  carriage  the  day  previous.  It  is  worth  relat- 
ing, as  an  illustration  of  the  constant  anxiety  of  this  gov- 
ernment and  its  officials  to  please  foreigners.  We  had 
left  in  the  carriage  a small  pasteboard  almanac,  value 
three  cents  on  the  1st  of  January,  and  much  less  now  that 
it  was  the  middle  of  November.  When  the  carriage  was 
cleaned  in  the  morning  it  was  found,  and  a cawass  was  in- 
stantly dispatched  after  us  with  two  horses  and  a govern- 
ment drag. 

He  went  to  Boulak,  and  learned  that  we  had  sailed  in 
the  evening.  Then 'he  went  to  Old  Cairo,  and  crossed 
the  ferry  to  Ghizeh,  where  he  learned  that  we  had  passed 
early  in  the  morning.  Returning  to  the  east  bank,  he 
drove  four  miles  up  the  river  and  overtook  us  as  I have 
related.  We'  sent  the  small  boat  on  shore  for  it,  and 
then  s(juared  away — if  the  word  is  allowable,  with  a 
lateen  sail — and  the  wind  having  now  freshened,  the 
boat  seemed  verily  as  if  she  had  vdngs,  and  flew  on,  the 
water  parting  with  a rush  and  rij^ple  on  each  side  of  her 
bow. 

In  the  afternoon,  we  passed  a boat  lying  at  the  shore, 
and  carrying  an  American  flag.  It  was  the  boat  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Martin,  one  of  the  American  missionaries  at  Cairo, 
just  starting  on  a voyage  of  inspection  to  determine 
whether  it  was  desirable  to  locate  a mission  at  any  point 
up  the  river.  We  met  them  frequently,  and  had  great 
pleasure  in  their  j^leasant  companionship. 

The  pyramids  of  Ghizeh,  of  Saccara,  and  of  Dashour, 


132 


NILE  MUD. 


appeared  in  succession  as  we  approached  them,  and 
watched  our  departure  with  changeless  aspect ; nor  was 
it  till  late  in  the  afternoon  that  we  lost  sight  of  the  lofty 
citadel  of  Cairo  and  the  Avhite  mosk  that  shines  from  it. 

It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  we  should  find  ourselves 
entirely  at  home  on  our  boat  within  the  first  twenty-four 
hours,  and  yet  I fancy  that  any  one  who  saw  us  that  day, 
stretched  on  diwans,  smoking  our  chibouks,  and  reading 
,or  talking,  would  have  imagined  us  old  voyagers  on  the 
return  from  a long  journey ; so  perfect  was  every  provis- 
ion for  comfort  and  luxury.  The  hotel  in  Cairo  was  noth- 
ing to  it,  though  that  was  excellent. 

The  Nile  itself,  at  first,  sadly  disappointed  me.  I con- 
fess to  ideas  of  a clear  and  glorious  river,  like  the  swift 
Ohio,  flowing  over  golden  sand  and  shining  stones.  I 
had  never  paused  to  ask  myself  whence  came  its  fertiliz- 
ing powers,  or  whence  the  vast  deposits  of  soft  mud  that 
enrich  the  lower  |3art  of  Egypt ; and  when  I saw  the 
strong  stream  in  the  hot  sunshine,  looking  more  like  flow- 
ing mud  than  water,  I was  unwilling  to  call  this  the  Nile. 
Utility  was  not  what  I wanted  to  see  in  the  river.  Beauty, 
majesty,  power,  all  these  I had  looked  for,  and  there  was 
nothing  of  them  until  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  moon 
gilded — not  silvered — the  stream.  Then  it  was  the  river 
of  my  imagination — a strong,  a mighty  flood,  glorious  in 
its  deep,  strong  flow,  and  the  unsightly  banks,  which,  in 
the  day,  are  abrupt  walls  of  black  mud,  in  layers,  looking 
like  huge  unbaked  brick,  become  picturesque  and  fairly 
beautiful  with  waving  groves  of  sont  and  palms,  and  glis- 
tening fields  of  doura. 

We  were  all  awake  before  the  sun  rose  next  morning, 
and  saw  him  come  up  after  the  short  morning  twilight, 
which  is  beautiful  beyond  w^ords.  The  sharp  outlines  of 
the  hills,  in  morning  and  evening  twilight,  surpass  belief. 

Before  the  sun  was  above  the  mountains,-  Trumbull  and 


AN  EGYPTIAN  DRAGOMAN. 


133 


myself  were  off  on  the  plain,  shooting  partridges,  for  the 
wind  was  gone  and  the  boat  was  lying  at  the  bank.  In 
half  an  hour  Ferraj  came  off  to  us  wuth  cups  of  hot  coffee, 
exquisitely  made,  for  therein  Hajji  Mohammed  did  excel, 
and  having  taken  these,  gun  in  hand,  we  strolled  up  the 
river,  and  the  Phantom  followed  us  before  a light  north- 
ern breeze.  As  this  increased  she  picked  us  up,  and  Ave 
ran  on  Avith  the  lofty  sail  SAvinging  in  the  strong,  full 
breeze,  and  pulling  her  by  the  nose  through  the  rushing 
current  of  the  river. 

We  reached  Benisoef  at  noon  on  the  third  day,  and  Avdiilc 
strolling  through  the  narroAV  bazaars,  Avith  their  cupboard 
shops,  I was  not  a little  amused  at  the  dragoman’s  method 
of  treating  his  countrymen.  Travelers  should  take  a na- 
tive dragoman  in  preference  to  a Maltese  on  this  account, 
that  the  inhabitants  haAm  no  fear  of  a Maltese  before  their 
eyes,  and  insult  travelers  Avithout  hesitation  and  Avithout 
being  punished,  Avhen  they  are  attended  by  a foreigner. 

But  the  presence  of  a native  dragoman  does  not  always 
protect  from  insulting  language. 

I did  not,  but  Abd-el-Atti  did,  overhear  a remark  made 
by  one  of  three  men  seated  in  a shop  front,  someAvdiat 
derogatory  to  the  character  of  Christians  in  general,  Avith 
lAarticular  reference  to  me.  He  AA^heeled  in  an  instant, 
but  the  Arab  Avas  too  quick  for  him,  and  vanished  around 
a corner,  leaving  his  shoes  on  the  ground  in  front  of  the 
shop,  and  his  tAA'o  companions  sitting  within  it.  With  one 
of  the  shoes  Abd-el-Atti  beat  one  of  the  scoundrels,  and 
Avith  the  other  shoe  he  thrashed  the  other,  finishing  each 
castigation  by  throAving  the  shoe  into  the  face  of  the  vic- 
tim, adding  a little  advice  to  keep  better  company.  Abd- 
el-Atti  Avas  by  no  means  satisfied  Avith  the  escape  of  the 
chief  offender,  and  ten  minutes  afterward,  as  Ave  returned 
that  Avay,  proposed  to  surround  him.  It  Avas  probable  he 
had  by  this  time  returned  to  talk  over  the  affair  with  his 


134 


A NATIVE  THRASHED. 


friends.  Abd-el-Atti  walked  on  unobserved,  and  having 
passed  the  shop,  gave  me  a signal.  We  closed  up,  and 
he  sprang  like  a cat  on  his  prey. 

Never  was  man  more  astounded.  Abd-el-Atti  had 
snatched  a stick  from  a by-stander,  and  showered  blows 
on  the  back  and  head  of  the  offender,  until  he  made  a 
sudden  bolt  to  escape,  and,  in  his  intense  haste,  stumbled 
over  a boy,  and  went  six  feet  into  the  dirt,  taking  a piece 
of  skin  off  from  his  nose — quite  large  enough  to  keep  him 
employed  in  better  business  for  some  days,  than  insulting 
travelers.  Fifty  turbaned  shop-keepers  looked  on  all  this 
with  motionless  countenances,  neither  approving  nor  dis- 
approving, by  word  or  gesture,  though  I thought  I could 
detect  a smile  of  satisfaction  in  some  of  their  dark  eyes  as 
he  bit  the  dust. 

We  left  Benisoef  with  a rattling  breeze,  but  it  failed 
us  toward  evening,  and  a dead  calm  followed.  In  the 
morning  I went  ashore,  on  the  eastern  side,  to  look  for 
game,  and  found  myself  on  a large  island  several  miles 
in  extent.  A native,  at  work  in  the  fields,  assured  me 
that  I should  find  wild  hogs  in  the  thickets  back  of  the 
doura  fields,  and  signaling  the  boat  for  two  sailors  to 
help  me,  I went  into  it  with  the  determination  to  have 
them  out  if  they  were  there. 

It  was  a warm  day,  but  the  air  was  clear  and  rich,  like 
wine  to  the  lungs,  and  I scarcely  felt  any  fatigue  after  a 
five-mile  walk  at  a fast  rate. 

Here,  I found  a thicket  that  had  all  the  appearance  of 
being  a fit  place  for  the  game  I w^as  after.  I had  no 
knowledge  whatever  of  the  animal’s  habits;  had  never 
shot  one  in  my  life,  but  I guessed  at  his  taste  from  his 
cousins  in  America,  and  plunged  into  the  mud  swamp 
with  full  expectation  of  seeing  my  game  before  me. 

Nor  was  I disappointed.  I had  not  advanced  ten  rods, 
when  one-eyed  Mustapha  shouted  furiously,  and  a small, 


WILD  PIGS. 


135 


dark  pig  dashed  through  the  thicket,  close  to  Abdal- 
lah’s feet.  I shot.  Abdallah  threw  himself  on  him, 
they  rolled  and  floundered  together  in  the  mud  ten  sec- 
onds, and  then — presto — the  pig  was  gone,  and  Abdallah 
nearly  gone.  Never  was  poor  devil  so  muddy.  He  was 
a mass  of  mud.  His  hair  was  mortar.  His  nose  was 
stopped.  His  mouth  was  full  of  his  native  earth,  and  his 
clothes — he  had  but  one  shirt,  and  that  could  not  be 
harmed  or  dirtied. 

I saw  no  more  pigs  or  hogs,  or  tracks  of  any  sort.  I 
shot  four  rabbits,  four  partridges,  a dozen  and  a half 
pigeons,  and  shot  at  a curlew  that  I didn’t  hit ; and  have 
always  been  sorry  since  that  I missed,  as  he  was  different 
from  any  other  that  I have  ever  seen.  I returned  to  the 
river  four  miles  above  where  I left  it.  The  boat  was 
slowly  approaching,  and  I sat  down  to  rest  while  the 
men  tracked  her  up.  From  this  time  till  we  reached  Es 
Souan,  nearly  thirty  days  afterward,  we  continued  most 
of  the  time  to  track. 

The  Nile  has  along  each  bank  a tow-path  as  well 
beaten  as  that  of  a canal  in  America.  At  times,  when 
there  are  sand-banks  near  one  shore,  the  boat  is  rowed 
across,  and  the  men  resume  their  tracking  on  the  oppo- 
site bank.  The  speed  made  depends  of  course  on  the 
velocity  of  the  current  against  which  they  are  pulling, 
and  varies  from  eight  to  twelve  miles  a day  with  a boat 
as  large  as  ours. 

On  the  next  evening  we  were  at  the  little  village  of 
Abou-Girg,  on  the  west  bank ; and  as  Abd-el-Atti  was 
going  into  the  village  for  milk,  I accompanied  him.  The 
low  water  would  not  allow  the  boat  to  reach  the  bank, 
and  we  had  directed  her  to  anchor  in  the  middle  of  the 
river,  as  well  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  thieves  as  for  con- 
venience. Nor  could  the  small  boat  reach  the  shore; 
and  having  pulled  up  in  the  mud,  I mounted  the  should* 


136 


A MOONLIGHT  ADVENTURE. 


ers  of  an  Arab  sailor,  who  carried  me  safely  to  dry 
land. 

The  mud  village  was  as  quiet  as  a grave-yard  in  the 
moonlight  until  we  approached,  and  then  fifty  dogs  made 
the  night  hideous  with  cowardly  barking.  Milk  is  not  as 
easily  procured  as  might  be  imagined  in  a country  where 
cattle,  goats,  and  camels  are  plenty.  Butter  brings  them 
so  much  better  prices,  that  few  are  willing  to  sell  milk ; 
and  hence  the  propriety  of  applying  to  a man  in  authority 
to  compel  the  production  of  the  article  we  wished.  I had 
been  furnished  with  all  the  necessary  authority  for  this 
purpose,  having  with  my  firman  a sort  of  roving  letter  of 
credit  from  the  government,  directed  to  all  sheiks  of  vil- 
lages, and  officials,  great  and  small,  requiring  them,  at  all 
times,  to  give  me  whatever  I wished,  in  the  way  of  pro- 
visions, at  government  prices. 

It  was  a mud  village,  and  the  streets  were  but  narrow 
alleys  between  the  walls  of  the  low,  windowless  houses, 
whose  roofs  were  corn-stalks  or  palm-branches.  The 
moon  shone  very  quietly  down  in  those  streets.  I had 
never  seen  it  more  so.  There  was  an  aspect  of  repose 
about  it  that  I could  account  for  only  in  one  Avay,  and 
that  was  by  supposing  that  the  rays  of  light,  having  fallen 
into  this  vile  and  dirty  spot,  had  lain  down  there  in  the 
repose  of  absolute  despair. 

“ Where  is  the  sheik  ?”  we  demanded  of  a naked  boy 
who  made  himself  visible  in  the  moonlight  an  instant. 
But  he  vanished  with  a howl  of  terror,  and  made  no  re- 
ply. We  met  a woman  face  to  face,  as  she  came  around 
a corner,  carrying  a calabash  on  her  head.  She  stopped, 
drew  her  dress  around  her  face,  set  down  her  calabash  on 
the  ground,  never  removing  the  gaze  of  her  eyes  from 
my  face,  and  then  wheeled,  and  darted  away. 

At  length  we  caught  a man,  and  he  took  us  up  a street 
to  a point  where  it  made  a short  angle  to  the  left  for 


SCARCITY  OF  MILK.  137 

thirty  feet,  and  then  continued  its  course.  The  moon 
shone  up  it,  but  this  angle  was  in  the  shade ; and  on  a 
diwan  made  of  dried  mud,  the  customary  bench  in  all  the 
Egyptian  villages,  sat  the  sheik  and  a half  dozen  of  his 
friends  in  the  shade,  with  their  backs  to  the  moon,  look- 
ing up  the  street,  where  it  shone  clearly  again.  Our  er- 
rand was  soon  stated,  and  the  pail,  which  one  of  the  sail- 
ors had  brought,  was  placed  on  the  broad  bench  in  front 
of  the  sheik,  while  I sat  on  one  side  of  it,  Abd-el-Atti 
stood  on  the  other,  and  a dozen  men,  women,  and  boys 
sat  down  in  the  dusty  street,  just  within  the  line  of 
shadow. 

The  old  sheik  puffed  his  pipe  in  silence  a moment,  then 
handed  it  to  me.  One  soon  forgets  prejudices.  It  would 
be  some  time  before  I could  be  induced  at  home  to  take 
a pipe  from  the  lips  of  a white  or  black  man ; but  I had 
not  been  in  Egypt  a month  before  I had  learned  that  my 
Nubian  servant  always  brought  me  my  pipe  between  his 
own  large  lips,  and  I had  accepted  the  hospitality  and 
v\'et  mouth-pieces  of  a dozen  Turks  and  Arabs.  I did 
mar.nge  at  first  to  get  a sly  wipe  over  the  mouth-piece 
with  my  thumb  as  I took  it ; but  I gave  up  this  notion  at 
length,  and  therefore  I took  the  sheik’s  chibouk  unhesi- 
tatingly, and  puffed  as  contentedly  as  his  vile  Beledi  to- 
bacco would  permit,  while  he  summoned  up  his  followers. 
“ Hassan ! Hassan ! Hassan !”  The  village  rang  with  the 
voice.  No  house  was  there  that  did  not  hear  it.  But 
Hassan  did  not  appear.  Hassan  was  wide  awake.  All  the 
village  knew  that  Ave  Avanted  milk,  and  Hassan,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  Avorthless  life,  was  aAvay  from  home. 

“ Some  one  bring  Hassan !”  growled  the  sheik ; and 
while  some  one  was  about  it,  he  shouted  for  “ Moham- 
med.” Mohammed  was  on  hand.  He  had  no  milk,  and 
was  safe  in  appearing,  while  they  endeavored  to  convince 
him  that  he  had  a gallon  of  it.  Hassan  Avas  brought  into 


138  PRETTY  FACES. 

the  ring,  and  the  sheik  ordered  him  to  bring  the  desired 
article.  Ilassan  swore  he  had  no  milk.  He  did  not  know 
what  milk  was.  If  you  would  believe  him,  he  never  drew 
milk  from  his  mother’s  breast ; and,  in  fact,  on  looking  at 
the  intense  darkness  of  his  countenance,  it  seemed  proba- 
ble that  he  was  right.  He  was  innocent  of  the  article. 

But  the  sheik  knew  Hassan.  A storm  of  words  com- 
menced that  resounded  through  the  village,  and  Hassan 
departed  growling.  The  moonlight  fell  quietly  in  the 
narrow  street,  and  the  group,  which  had  steadily  in- 
creased in  number,  sat  in  the  edge  of  the  light,  striving 
in  vain  to  pierce  the  darkness  that  enveloped  my  corner, 
and  catch  a sight  of  my  countenance.  The  sheik  was 
silent,  and  I followed  his  example,  puffing  industriously 
at  his  vile  chibouk,  which  I twice  handed  back  to  him 
with  my  hand  on  my  forehead,  and  which  he  as  often  re- 
turned to  me  W’et  from  his  lips,  with  his  hand  most  im- 
pressively plunged  into  his  loose  robe,  in  the  region  where 
ordinary  humanity  carries  its  heart,  but  where  an  Egyp- 
tian carries  either  a stone  or  nothing. 

It  was  not  so  much  the  mouth-piece  as  the  tobacco 
to  which  I objected ; but  I resigned  myself  to  it  after 
fruitless  efforts  to  get  rid  of  it,  and  kept  at  it  with  com- 
mendable perseverance,  until  I discovered  a sleepy-look- 
ing  Arab  on  the  other  side  of  the  sheik,  who  looked  as  if 
he  would  be  glad  of  a chance  at  it,  and  I passed  it  to  him. 
He  seized  it  and  made  fast  to  it,  while  I yielded  myself  to 
a profound  sense  of  satisfaction,  and,  leaning  back,  looked 
up  toward  the  stars.  I say  toward  the  stars,  but  not  at 
them,  for  not  less  than  twenty  heads  intercepted  my 
vision.  The  roofs  of  the  houses  were  crowded  with 
women,  who  were  looking  over  into  the  open  space  below 
to  see  the  stranger.  I stared  at  them  unobserved,  and, 
though  they  were  villagers  living  in  mud  huts  and  clothed 
in  blue  cotton,  still  they  had  as  beautiful  faces  among  them 


MILK  IS  FOUND. 


139 


as  I have  seen  in  splendid  halls,  and  eyes  that  outshone 
the  stars  themselves.  Ah,  those  lustrous  eyes  of  the 
Arab  women ! one  can  not  imagine  the  possibility  of  all 
the  extravagances  of  the  Arabian  Nights  until  he  has 
seen  their  depths  of  beauty,  and  then  he  understands  it 
all.  The  dark  lines  of  kolil^  drawn  around  the  edges  of 
the  lids,  make  them  appear  fike  diamonds  set  in  ebony, 
and  their  laughing  expression  is  the  soul  of  fun  and  de- 
light. 

I asked  the  sheik  what  fruit  grew  on  the  house-tops  in 
Abou-Girg  ? Every  head  was  raised  instantly,  and  the 
eyes  disappeared  in  a twinkling,  while  a hearty  laugh  ran 
around  the  circle.  At  this  moment  Hassan  made  his  ap- 
pearance with  a bowl  containing  less  than  a pint  of  milk, 
which  he  poured  into  the  pail  in  front  of  the  sheik.  Then 
came  a tempest.  The  sheik  groaned,  and  Abd-el-Atti 
waxed  eloquent.  Hassan  was  overpowered  with  the 
storm  of  words  that  ensued,  and  departed  to  squeeze  his 
calabash  or  his  cows  for  a little  more.  Meantime  Moham- 
med had  been  dispatched  to  raise  some  milk  under  pen- 
alty of  a thrashing  if  he  failed ; and  when  he  was  gone, 
the  sheik  shouted  for  female  assistance : “ Serreeyeh ! 
Serreeyeh !” 

She  came,  wearing  the  invariable  blue  cloth  wound 
around  her  body,  head,  and  face,  the  eyes  alone  being 
visible,  and  was  dispatched  on  the  same  errand,  while  the 
sheik  asked  news  from  the  war,  and  we  launched  into  the 
sea  of  politics.  The  scene  was  enlivened  by  the  arrival 
of  an  Arab  mounted  on  a white  horse,  and  a.  half  dozen 
tall  fellows  in  red  tarbouches,  who  had  been  sent  for  to  sit 
on  shore  all  night  and  watch  our  boat.  Every  village  is 
responsible  for  the  safety  of  a boat  lying  over  night  at  or 
near  its  banks,  and,  if  robbery  occurs,  must  make  good 
all  losses. 

At  length  Hassan  returned  with  another  pint  of  milk, 


140 


SLEEPY  GUARD. 


and  poured  it  into  the  pail  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  that 
seemed  to  claim  the  approval  of  his  neighbors.  The 
sheik  looked  in,  took  up  the  pail,  shook  it,  looked  at 
Hassan,  and  set  it  down  with  a groan  of  disgust  that  was 
irresistible.  I think  Hassan’s  chances  for  a well  pair  of 
feet  Avere  poorer  at  that  moment  than  they  had  been  in 
some  Aveeks.  But  Mohammed  anwed  in  the  nick  of  time 
with  a good  supply,  and  filled  the  pail.  As  for  Serreeyeh, 
Serreeyeh  is  doubtless  looking  for  it  yet,  for  we  saAv  no 
more  of  her.  I took  my  lea\"e  of  the  sheik  and  Avent 
back  to  the  Phantom,  followed  by  the  guard,  who  spread 
their  mats  on  the  bank  AAdiile  I pulled  off  to  the  boat, 
Avhich  Avas  anchored  fifty  yards  from  the  shore.  For  an 
hour  the  men  on  board  exchanged  hails  every  ten  min- 
utes Avith  the  guard  on  shore ; after  that  our  hails  Avere 
unanswered,  and  from  the  appearance  of  the  three  mats 
and  six  dark  spots  on  them,  I aa'US  convinced  that  they 
Avere  keeping  AA^atch  after  the  most  approA'ed  Turkish 
fashion. 

Tlie  next  day  we  tracked  again  all  day.  But  there  A\-as 
nothing  tedious  in  this  Avay  of  progressing,  for  it  gave  us 
an  opportunity  of  going  on  shore  and  Avalking,  shooting, 
gathering  shells,  agates,  and  cornelians,  or  meeting  the 
natives  and  talking  Avith  or  looking  at  them. 

We  strolled  along  a sandy  beach,  the  ladies  looking  for 
specimens  of  the  Nile  shells,  and  J and  myself  carry- 

ing our  guns  and  shooting  an  occasional  plover  or  pigeon. 
W e came  to  a point  on  the  east  bank  not  far  beloAv  the 
village  of  Sheik  Hassan,  Avhere  the  desert  came  down  to 
the  edge  of  the  river,  and  from  the  Nile  to  the  Bed  Sea 
the  sand  rolled  everywhere.  There  Avas  a rocky  point 
j)rojecting  into  the  rNer,  and  on  its  top  the  remains  of  a 
foundation  heAvn  in  it.  Nothing  but  these  lines  was 
there.  No  fallen  Avail,  no  blocks  of  stone,  no  column, 
only  the  trench  in  the  solid  rock  that  marked  the  outline 


OLD  AND  REVEREND. 


141 


of  the  building  which  had  once  stood  there.  There  was 
nothing  strange  in  this,  for  almost  every  rock  from  Cairo 
to  Wady  Halfeh  has  interesting  memorials  about  it ; but 
no  American,  accustomed  as  w^e  are  to  the  modern,  can 
look  on  the  foundation-w^all  of  a building  of  three  thou- 
sand years  ago  without  pausing  to  analyze  the  new 
thoughts  and  emotions  that  crowd  into  his  brain.  Pos- 
sibly our  monuments  are  older.  Perhaps  the  mounds  that 
I opened  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  may  be  the  graves  of  a 
race  that  had  grown  old  w’hen  Egypt  was  young^ — of  a 
people  wEose  monarchs  were  mighty  men  of  renown  long 
centuries  before  the  valley  of  the  Nile  rang  to  the  sounds 
of  war  under  the  Shepherd  Kings.  I have  looked  on 
those  mounds  with  reverence,  but  reverence  more  for  the 
mysterious  and  unknown  than  for  the  ancient  and  great. 
I have  slept  in  solemn  nights,  when  the  wind  was  wailing 
through  the  forest,  wrapped  in  my  blanket,  in  the  turf 
inclosure  that  contained  one  of  those  strange  heaps,  and 
every  night  ghostly  visitors  surrounded  me,  giant  men, 
like  trees  walking,  and  with  voices  like  the  wind.  But  I 
never  felt  in  those  dark  communions  with  the  unknown 
past  any  of  that  profound  awe  wdth  which  I stand  among 
the  relics  of  a nation  whose  history  I know,  and  whose 
age  is  recorded  on  granite. 

It  was  but  a line  on  the  stone,  but  it  told  of  the  days 
of  princes  and  kmgs.  We  sat  down  on  the  rock, 
Miriam  and  I,  and  the  sun  shone  pleasantly  down  on  us, 
and  the  river  passed  on  at  our  feet  as  we  read  the  story. 
It  was  of  kingly  footsteps  on  the  floor,  of  the  light  tread 
of  the  fairy  feet  of  princesses,  of  the  tramp  of  men-at- 
arms,  the  sound  of  music,  and  laughter,  and  song,  and 
dance,  and  revel.  Soft  passages  were  not  wanting,  that 
told  of  pure  and  gentle  love ; and  those  we  paused  to 
read,  for  human  love  hallows  the  earth  more  than  any 
other  incident  in  all  the  life  of  man.  I care  not  W'here  it  is 


142 


ANCIENT  LOVE. 


— though  in  the  hut  of  an  Egyptian  Fellah  or  the  hovel 
of  a miserable  Berber,  if  the  sanctifying  influence  of  love 
have  been  there,  it  has  made  it  a sacred  place.  And  the 
thought  that  arms  had  been  twined  around  each  other 
here,  that  lips  had  wooed  each  other’s  kisses  here,  that 
hearts  had  beaten  against  hearts,  and  strong  embraces 
held  young  beauties,  and  voices  whispered  low  soft  words 
of  human  fondness,  and  eyes  looked  love  here — this 
thought  hallowed  the  rock,  though  arms,  lips,  and  young 
beauties  were  all  dead  dust  a thousand  years  ago — dead 
dust  carried  away  on  the  river  to  the  sea,  and  by  the  sea 
scattered  to  the  islands  and  continents  of  an  unknown 
world.  If  all  the  dust  of  all  the  earth  could  but  start 
into  life  and  clear  perception  for  an  instant  where  it  now 
lies,  what  strange,  wild  countenances  of  affright  and  hor- 
ror would  men  see  staring  on  them  from  the  earth  be- 
neath their  feet  in  every  land  ! 


(3. 

We  reached  Kalouseneh  that  day.  When  within  four 
miles  of  it,  I left  the  boat,  and  crossed  the  country  on 
foot,  gun  in  hand,  shooting  along  the  way. 

At  the  village  I found  it  market-day.  There  are  about 
a hundred  acres  of  palm-grove  here — it  might  almost  be 
called  a forest — and  in  the  shade  sat  literally  hundreds  of 
men,  women,  and  children,  with  their  various  wares  and 
merchandise.  All  the  fruits,  grains,  and  products  of  the 
country  abounded,  and  there  were  long  rows  of  tempo- 
rary shops,  consisting  only  of  shawls  spread  on  the  ground, 
covered  with  beads  and  other  trinkets,  to  tempt  the 
Bedouin  or  Egyptian  women.  I sat  down  under  a palm, 
tired  out,  and  endeavored  to  cool  and  rest  myself ; but  a 
gaping  crowd,  scores  and  scores  of  the  people,  surrounded 
me,  stifling  the  air,  and  nearly  suflbcating  me.  I left  the 
market  and  entered  the  village.  It  was  the  usual  mud 
structure  of  Egypt,  and  but  for  the  beauty  of  its  palm- 
grove,  would  have  been  as  detestable  as  any  other.  I 
found  a cofiee-house  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  I 
sat  down  to  wait  the  coming  of  my  boat.  It  was  already 
occupied,  but  they  vacated  the  coolest  diwan  on  my  ar- 
rival, and  I took  it. 

r>o  not  imagine  a coflee-house  on  the  European  or 
American  plan.  Far  from  it.  A mud  wall  in  the  rear, 


144 


A COFFEE  SHOP. 


seven  feet  liigli,  and  two  posts  at  the  front  corners,  sup- 
ported a roof  of  reeds  or  of  corn-stalks.  This  is  the 
Egyptian  coffee-shop,  found  in  every  village  of  any  size, 
and  furnishing  coffee  at  ten  j^aras  the  cup,  araka  at  a little 
more,  and  boosa  at  five  paras  for  enough  to  get  sick  upon. 
Forever  be  the  memory  of  Egyptian  boosa  detested  ! It 
was  here  that  I first  encountered  it,  and,  unsuspicious 
man  that  I was,  invested  my  paras — five  of  them  constitut- 
ing almost  the  smallest  coin  known  in  Egypt — in  ordering 
a cup  of  beer — Arabic,  boosa.  It  came,  and  I looked  at  it, 
and  elevated  my  gaze  to  the  faces  of  the  groujD  around 
me.  They  did  not  understand  my  horror,  except  only  a 
ghawazee,  a dancing-girl,  whose  intense  black  eyes  flashed 
her  fun  as  she  saw  me  posed  by  the  earthen  dish  full  of  a 
vile  abomination  that — on  my  faith  it  did — smelled  as  if 
it  had  already  served  the  purposes  of  two  Arabs,  and 
refused  to-  stay  on  their  stom.achs.  I tasted  it.  I taste 
every  thing,  clean  or  unclean,  that  Arabs  taste.  Xo,  I 
am  wrong : there  is  a dish  that  Abdul  Rahman  Eftendi, 
the  governor  of  N’ubia  from  Es  Souan  to  Wady  Ilalfeh, 
called  my  attention  to,  and  which  I did  not  taste. 
It  was  the  entrails  of  a sheep,  chopped  fine,  vfith  the 
gall  broken  and  sprinkled  on  them,  which  a half  dozen 
Berbers  were  eating  raw,  with  a gusto  that  might 
have  tempted  a less  fastidious  man ; as  I said,  I did 
not  taste  that.  But  I did  taste  the  boosa,  and  I handed 
back  the  dish,  cup,  bowl,  whatever  its  name  was — it 
held  a quart — and  I begged  the  proprietor  of  the  shop, 
as  a special  favor  to  me,'  to  pour  it  all  back  into  his 
reservoir,  and  shut  the  cover  down.  I shudder  as  I re- 
member it  now ! 

I sat  for  two  hours  in  the  coffee-shop,  and  I am  sorry 
to  say  that  my  company  was  none  of  the  most  reputable. 
There  were  three  filthy-looking  Arabs,  half-civilized  Be- 
douins, belonging  to  a tribe  that  Mohammed  Ali  per- 


A LAW  QUESTION. 


■ 145 


suaded  to  occui^y  arable  land  and  raise  camels  for  liis 
uses,  and  whom  Said  Pasha  has  converted  into  enemies 
by  attempting  to  tax.  There  was  a great  rascal,  in  the 
shape  of  an  owner  of  a boat,  who  was  endeavoring  to 
extract  a sum  of  money  out  of  a poor  reis  by  a sum- 
mary process,  not  unlike  some  attempts  that  I have  seen 
in  other  countries,  in  which  attempt  there  were  some  ten 
or  twelve  villagers  deeply  interested,  while  two  ghawa- 
zee — dancing  girls — dressed  in  the  voluptuous,  half-naked 
style  of  their  j^rofession,  swindled  the  various  parties  out 
of  successive  cups  of  coffee,  or  the  money  to  buy  them, 
by  the  same  arts  that  women  of  their  character  practice 
all  the  world  over. 

The  dispute  about  the  boat,  between  the  owner  and  the 
reis,  grew  furious.  All  shouted  at  once,  and  now  I 
learned  that  the  sheik  of  the  reises  was  present  endeav- 
oring to  settle  the  difficulty. 

This  is  a feature  of  Egyptian  government.  Every  trade 
or  business  has  its  sheik.  In  Cairo  you  will  hear  con- 
stantly of  the*  sheik  of  the  donkey-owners,  and,  on  any 
dispute  arising  among  your  boys  as  to  the  division  of  the 
day’s  pay,  you  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  throw  down  your 
money,  and  let  them  go  to  their  sheik  and  settle  it. 

Achmet,  the  boat  owner,  had  contracted  with  Reis 
Barikat  to  let  him  his  boat  for  a year  at  a fixed  rate  per 
month,  and  he  had  had  it  a year  and  a half,  and  paid 
regularly.  Just  at  this  time  freights  were  very  high,  and 
the  boat  was  loaded  with  grain,  and  ready  to  go  down 
the  river,  when  the  rascally  Achmet  demanded  the  boat, 
on  the  ground  that  his  contract  was  for  a year  and  no 
longer,  and  although  it  ran  on  six  months  longer,  that 
was  no  reason  why  it  should  six  months  more. 

The  dispute  waxed  furious,  and  came  at  last  to  the 
true  western  style. 

“ You  lie.” 


1 


146 


BRAHEEM  EFFENDI. 


“You  lie  yourself.” 

And  then  they  went  at  each  other.  Loud  shouts 
arose  on  all  sides,  and  the  ghawazee  danced  in  uproar- 
ious fun  at  the  idea  of  a light,  and  ran  up  to  me  with  the 
most  decided  indications  of  their  intent  to  embrace  me 
as  they  had  embraced  every  body  else. 

I Avas  sitting  on  a bench  of  mud  a little  elevated  from 
the  mud  floor  of  the  cofiee-shop.  I drew  my  feet  up 
under  me,  and  felt  for  the  handle  of  a friend  in  my 
shawl-belt  as  the  roaring,  screaming  mass  came  over  to- 
ward me,  and  just  then  Abd-el-Atti  made  his  appearance 
Avith  koorbash  in  hand.  A koorbash  is  Arabic  for  cow- 
hide, the  coAV  being  a rhinoceros.  It  is  the  most  cruel 
AAdiip  knoAAm  to  fame.  Heavy  as  lead,  and  flexible  as  In- 
dia rubber,  usually  about  forty  inches  long  and  tapering 
gradually  from  an  inch  in  diameter  to  a point,  it  adminis- 
ters a bloAV  Avhich  leaA^es  its  mark  for  time. 

I had  not  been  on  the  Nile  a Aveek  before  I learned 
that  the  koorbash  AA^as  the  only  weapon  of  defense  nec- 
essary to  carry,  and  Ave  soon  gave  up  knives  and  pistols 
and  took  to  the  Avhip,  of  aaLIcIi  all  the  people  had  a salu- 
tary horror. 

Abd-el-Atti  made  the  croAvd  fly  as  he  swung  his  Aveapon 
among  them,  and  silence  ensued  Avith  astonishing  sudden- 
ness. 

“ How  dare  you  make  such  a row  in  the  presence  of 
Braheem  Efiendi  ?” 

“Who  is  Braheem  Eflendi?”  asked  the  reis  of  the 
boatmen,  for  up  to  this  moment  he  had  not  obseiwed 
that  the  stranger  in  the  coflee-shop  Avas  a HoAvajji. 
This  Avas  owing  not  to  my  oriental  appearance  so  much 
as  to  the  extremely  shabby  costume  that  I happened  to 
have  on  that  morning. 

“ Yonder  he  is.” 

The  reis  advanced  immediately  to  pay  his  respects 


A JUDICIAL  OPINION. 


147 


and  apologise  for  the  row.  I had  to  be  frank  and  tell 
him  it  needed  an  apology.  Then  he  stated  the  difficulty, 
and  Achmet  interruj)ted  him,  and  Reis  Barikat  sat  silent 
on  the  ground  just  outside  the  shade  of  the  coffee-shop, 
sullen  as  if  he  expected,  as  a matter  of  course,  that,  now 
that  his  affair  was  referred  to  a rich  man  and  his  turgo- 
man,  the  decision  would  be  against  him,  a poor  devil 
without  friends,  right  or  wrong. 

Abd-el-Atti  interpreted  rapidly  and  fluently,  much  to 
my  admiration,  and  when  I ex|3ressed  surprise  that  any 
doubt  could  arise  on  so  clear  a case  as  this,  and  asked  if 
they  had  no  law  to  punish  the  man  who  had  sat,  day  after 
day,  on  the  bank  and  seen  his  boat  loaded  while  he 
waited  for  the  opportunity  to  attempt  extortion  like 
this,  old  Reis  Barikat  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  me  in 
astonishment  gradually  changing  into  delight,  and  then 
I proceeded  to  deliver  a lecture  on  the  doctrine  of  bail- 
ments, contracts,  executory  and  executed,  and  all  the 
law  that  could  be  applied  remotely  or  nearly  to  this  case, 
or  any  case  like  it.  The  crowd  around  the  coffee-house  in- 
creased to  not  less  than  a hundred  persons,  all  profoundly 
silent,  Avhile  I amused  myself  by  watching  their  dark 
faces,  among  which  the  bright  countenance  of  one  of  the 
ghawazee  girls,  white  as  a Circassian’s,  and  rosy  as  a 
Georgian’s,  shone  conspicuous  with  delight,  for  she  had 
all  along  favored  the  old  reis,  who  had,  doubtless, 
given  her  a free  sail  down  to  Cairo  once  in  a while. 

The  scene  was  worth  remembering.  I sat  on  the 
bench,  over  which  a straw  mat,  crowded  with  fleas,  had 
been  spread.  Abd-el-Atti  stood  before  me.  The  sheik 
of  the  boatmen  sat  on  the  ground  m front,  Achmet  by 
his  side,  and  the  villagers  stood  crowded  behind  them. 
By  the  time  I had  finished  my  address  the  Phantom  was 
in  sight,  and  rising  from  the  seat  of  justice,  I gathered 
my  robes  about  me  with  as  much  dignity  as  might  be, 


148 


A COSTLY  HEAD-DRESS. 


and  quietly  walked  down  to  tlie  boat,  leaving  the  reis 
and  Achmet  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  sheik  enlight- 
ened by  American  law. 

Abd-el-Atti  remained  behind,  and  informed  me  that 
the  sheik’s  decision  was  based  on  the  profound  views 
that  I had  suggested,  although,  to  say  truth,  he  did  n’t 
remember  the  precise  order  of  them  or  what  they  were 
about.  But  he  gave  Reis  Barikat  the  boat  on  the  same 
terms  for  the  voyage  as  before,  and  administered  justice 
to  the  feet  of  the  extortionate  owner. 

While  we  were  lying  here,  I saw  a woman  sitting  on 
the  bank  tearing  sugar-cane  to  pieces  with  her  teeth,  and 
feeding  it  to  her  child.  The  mother’s  beauty  of  teeth  at- 
tracted my  attention,  and  I approached  her  to  look  at 
them.  Her  head-dress  was  of  the  shape  common  in  her 
country,  consisting,  as  I sup^^osed,  of  round  pieces  of 
brass  attached  to  each  other.  Her  form  was  not  un- 
graceful, and  most  liberally  exj)Osed  by  the  single  blue 
shirt,  open  to  the  waist,  which  alone  covered  it.  Abd- 
el-Atti  asked  her  something  about  her  head-dress,  and 
told  her  he  would  give  her  five  paras  apiece  for  the  orna- 
ments. I looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  told  him  he  was 
making  her  a large  offer. 

“ Do  you  think  so  ? Look  at  them,”  said  he — and  I 
walked  up  and  took  hold  of  them.  They  were  gold 
pieces,  Constantinople  money,  worth  twenty  odd  piastres 
each,  and  the  woman  had  on  her  head  actually  more  than 
a hundred  dollars’  worth -of  gold  coin.  This  style  of  head- 
dress is  everywhere  common.  Women  wear  all  they  pos- 
sess on  their  heads,  and  nearly  every  com  in  circulation 
in  Egypt  has  a hole  in  it,  showing  that  it  has  been  used 
for  this  purpose.  The  young  children  of  the  poorer 
classes  wear  the  base  metal  coins  of  the  value  of  a half 
piastre  and  upward,  and  it  is  an  evidence  of  the  general 
honesty  of  the  people,  that  young  children  of  five  and  ten 


PALM-TREES  AND  MOONLIGHT. 


149 


years  old  are  seen  everywhere  with  head-dresses  covered 
with  these  coins. 

It  was  not  yet  evening,  hut  there  was  no  other  village 
for  some  distance  above,  and  we  thought  it  best  to  pass 
the  night  here.  Accordingly  we  laid  the  boat  up  at  the 
bank,  and  spread  our  carpets  under  the  palm-trees.  Here 
we  sat  till  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  moonlight  came 
gloriously  over  us.  Xever  was  there  such  a moon,  never 
such  skies,  never  such  stars  as  these.  And  when  the 
night  comes,  and  I sit  in  the  holy  light  that  sanctifies 
even  this  apparently  God-forgotten  land,  I think  there 
can  be  no  life  in  all  the  world  like  this.  Palm-trees, 
moonlight,  and  the  Nile  ! What  more  ? Sometimes — ■ 
sometimes,  I say — not  often — on  such  nights  as  these,  I 
remember  a distant  land  of  cold  storms  and  biting  frosts. 
Often — how  often!  how  earnestly,  how  fondly,  I remem- 
ber a land  of  gleaming  firesides  and  beloved  faces ; and  I 
see  the  sad  countenances  of  two  who  look  for  my  coming, 
and  then  I long  to  be  away.  God  keep  us  all  to  meet  in 
a land  that  I love  better  than  Jerusalem  itself,  for  all  my 
darling  memories  of  childhood  and  of  you ! 

At  break  of  day  we  glided  away  from  the  shadow  of 
the  palm-trees,  and  pursued  our  course  slowly  up  the 
river — I,  as  usual,  taking  my  gun  and  one  of  the  men 
with  me,  and  walking  on  shore,  in  advance  of  the  crew 
who  were  at  the  tracking-rope.  The  current  was  strong, 
and  we  had  not  advanced  far  when  we  met  a boat  in 
which  were  a man,  his  wife,  and  two  boys  coming  down 
on  the  stream.  It  was  heavily  loaded  and  near  the 
shore,  and  the  man  was  unable  to  row  ofiT  and  give  our 
boat  the  track,  as  was  our  right.  It  was  manifest  that 
unless  he  stopped  her  we  should  be  afoul,  and  that  with 
force  enough  to  sink  one  or  the  other,  or  both.  The  usual 
Arab  shouting  commenced,  and  the  eldest  boy  plunged 
into  the  stream  with  a rope  for  the  shore.  He  reached 


150 


A HAIR’S-BREADTII  ESCAPE. 


it,  but  the  current  swept  him  by  the  steep  bank.  I gave 
him  the  end  of  ray  gun,  and  my  man  caught  the  roj^e, 
and  between  us  we  swung  the  boat  in  to  the  shore.  At 
the  moment  that  her  bow  struck,  the  other  boy  jumped 
for  the  shore,  and  missing  his  footing,  fell  into  the  stream 
just  in  time  for  the  boat  to  close  over  him  and  absolutely 
extinguish  him.  I thought  he  was  done  for.  But  Mo- 
hammed  sprang  to  the  rescue,  pushed  off  the  boat,  and 
seized  him  literally  in  extremis. 

All  Arabs,  men  and  boys,  have  their  heads  shaved, 
leaving  only  a scalp-lock,  said  by  some  to  be  left  in  imi- 
tation of  the  Prophet,  who  wore  his  own  thus ; and  by 
others  said  to  be  for  the  convenience  of  the  angel  who 
will  pull  them  out  of  their  graves  when  the  day  of  rising 
shall  come.  The  tuft  of  hair  served  the  boy’s  purposes 
at  an  earlier  date  than  had  been  anticipated.  Moham- 
med lifted  him  bodily  by  it,  his  feet  and  hands  spread 
out  like  a frog.  I thought  his  scalp  must  be  pulled  off ; 
but  no.  He  picked  himself  uj^  from  the  mud  into  which 
Mohammed  threw  him,  and  stood,  without  a whimper,  an 
unconcerned  spectator  of  the  scene  which  followed.  His 
father  was  indignant  at  Mohammed  for  saving  the  boy’s 
life  so  rudely.  He  should  have  been  more  polite  about 
it.  The  old  man  struck  a good  blow,  but  got  a better 
one  in  return.  By  this  time  the  crew  had  come  up  with 
the  tracking-rope,  and  some  natives  had  run  down  to  the 
shore.  The  melee  became  general.  I was  the  only  one 
not  in  it,  and  I amused  myself  with  seeing  their  harmless 
blows,  which  were  showered  furiously  on  each  other, 
while  the  shouts  were  hideous.  Blows  and  shouts  at 
length  became  milder,  and  the  difficulty  was  ended.  The 
crew  resumed  their  tracking-rope,  turning  occasionally  to 
hurl  a general  volley — a sort  of  company-fire  of  words — 
in  the  rear,  until  Reis  Hassanein,  who  had  been  foremost 


CONVENT  OF  LADY  MARY. 


151 


in  the  fray,  resumed  his  walk  by  the  side  of  his  men,  and 
gave  the  time  for  the  invariable  towing  chorus — 

“ Ya  Allah  ! ya  M’hammed !” 

« 

which  they  continued  right  cheerily  until  afternoon,  when 
we  were  under  the  Jebel  e’  Tayr,  or  “Mountain  of 
Birds,”  which,  saith  tradition,  the  birds  annually  visit 
for  the  purpose  of  leaving  one  of  their  number  im- 
prisoned until  their  next  return.  The  vrhy  and  the 
wherefore  who  knoweth  ? 

But  the  mountain  is  better  known  as  the  site  of  the 
“ Convent  of  the  Pulley,”  or  of  “ Sitteh  Mariam  el 
Adra”  (our  Lady  Mary  the  Virgin),  and,  more  briefly, 
“ Dayr  el  Adra.”  It  is  a long  range  of  cliffs,  singularly 
broken,  and  full  of  rifts  and  chasms,  rising  perpendicu- 
larly from  the  east  side  of  the  river  for  four  miles.  The 
convent,  which  is  in  fact  but  a Coptic  village  within  mud- 
brick  walls,  occupies  the  highest  part  of  it,  and  access  to 
it  is  had  by  a well-hole,  a natural  break  in  the  rock,  up 
which  men  may  climb  from  the  river’s  edge.  Otherwise 
one  must  go  some  miles  around  to  reach  it. 

Coptic  convents  are  not  such  places  as  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  imagine  convents.  Marriage  not  being  for- 
bidden to  the  priests,  their  wives  and  families  necessarily 
form  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  a convent,  which  thus  be- 
comes a village,  often  of  no  small  dimensions.  A church, 
surrounded  by  mud  huts,  and  all  inclosed  in  a. wall  to 
protect  them  from  the  incursions  of  Bedoums,  who  have 
no  fear  of  the  church  before  their  eyes,  composes  the 
residence  of  the  monks.  They  live  as  they  best  can — by 
begging,  cultivating  land,  and  possibly  in  less  honest 
ways.  I have  not  much  admiration  for  the  Copts.  A 
Mussulman  is  worth  a dozen  of  them,  and  a much  safer 
companion.  The  Dayr  el  Adra  boasts  a church  built  by 


152 


SWIMMING  MONKS. 


the  Empress  Helena,  but  it  is  nearly  in  ruins,  and  there 
is  nothing  interesting  outside  of  it. 

Long  before  we  were  up  with  it,  two  black  heads  were 
visible  on  the  surface  of  the  water  under  the  hill,  and 
two  of  the  monks  came  off  to  the  boat,  swimming  more 
than  two  miles  to  meet  us.  Their  robes  were  not  accord- 
ing to  any  monastic  order  that  I have  before  heard  of, 
nor  could  any  opinion  be  formed  from  them  of  the  rank 
of  the  individuals.  In  point  of  fact,  the  only  opinion  one 
could  form  was  of  their  physical  developments,  and  these 
were  magnificent.  They  were  naked,  and  two  more 
stout,  brawny,  heavily-built  specimens  of  humanity  'were 
never  seen  in  or  out  of  a monastery.  They  made  the  air 
ring  and  the  cliffs  echo  their  shouts  from  the  time  they  « 
took  to  the  water  until  they  reached  us,  “ Howajji,  Clnis- 
tiano ; Christiano,  Howajji,”  and  would  doubtless  have 
added  the  demand  for  bucksheesh  in  the  approved  Egyp- 
tian style  if  I had  not  anticipated  them.  I was  on  the 
u]3per  deck  sketching  the  hill,  and  when  they  were  within 
two  hundred  yards  of  us,  rapidly  approaching,  throwing 
their  long  arms  out  of  the  water  and  drawing  themselves 
along,  I called  to  them  to  give  me  bucksheesh.  I 
begged  more  vociferously  than  an  Arab — I shouted,  I 
howled  it  out:  “Edine  Bucksheesh,  Edine  Bucksheesh, 
Khamsa,  Ashera,  Bucksheesh,  Bucksheesh!” 

They  were  taken  aback.  It  was  not  what  they  came 
for.  I had  mistaken  them.  It  was  they  who  Avanted 
money.  They  had  not  come  on  a benevolent  mission  to 
the  travelers’  boat ; so  they  dropped  astern  very  quietly 
and  swam  ashore  on  the  Avest  bank,  along  Avhich  Ave  Avere 
tracking,  Avhere  they  held  a small  council  and  took  each 
other’s  advice  according  to  priestly  rule.  It  appeared  to 
be  a neAV  question  in  their  experience.  For  something 
like  a thousand  years  the  monks  of  the  monastery  of  the 
Sitteh  Mariam  had  been  accustomed  to  ask  gifts  from 


HOWAJJI  MAFISHl  * 


153 


passing  travelers,  but  never  before  had  one  demanded 
aid  from  the  convent ; and  yet  it  looked  proper ; even 
their  thick  skulls  felt  the  penetrating  j^ower  of  the  idea. 

Five  minutes  closed  the  council,  and  they  advanced 
along  the  sand  to  the  side  of  the  boat. 

“Howajji,”  commenced  the  leader.  I have  an  idea 
that  he  was  the  father  abbot ; he  was  six  feet  in — no — 
not  in  his  stockings.  His  tone  was  subdued.  It  was  by 
Vv’ay  of  introducing  a conversation  that  he  called  our  at- 
tention. I was  busy  over  my  sketch  with  my  head  bent 
down,  though  I watched  him  steadily. 

“ Howajji.” 

“ Howajji  raafish,”  replied  Trumbull.  “ There’s  no 
Howajji  here.  What  do  you  mean  by  calling  me  a shop- 
keeper ?” 

Again  he  paused  to  consider.  There  was  a point  in 
the  remark.  The  term  Howajji,  or  Howaggi,  as  it  is  pro- 
nounced in  Egypt,  is  applied  indiscriminately  to  all  trav- 
elers, originally  as  an  expression  of  contempt,  though 
it  has  become  the  common  phrase  for  a foreigner  who 
travels  for  pleasure.  The  Turks  consider  all  other  na- 
tions mere  shopkeepers,  but  the  Christian  monk  had  no 
excuse  for  using  the  word.  At  length  he  began  again. 

“Sidi”  (gentleman),  and  proceeded  to  state  his  case. 
It  w^as  a somewhat  unecclesiastical  affair  altogether,  but 
I think  he  did  not  appreciate  that.  AVhen  he  had  ex- 
plained his  wishes,  which  resolved  themselves  into  the 
usual  demand  for  charity,  only  it  was  somewhat  novel  to 
hear  it  asked  in  the  name  of  the  Saviour,  we  invited  the 
monks  alongside.  They  swam  off  to  the  boat  and  held 
on  to  the  rail,  with  their  mouths  open  and  heads  thro^vn 
back,  and  we  administered  the  silver  in  due  form,  laying 
it  on  their  tongues.  But  the  ceremony  was  incomplete, 
and  the  next  instant  they  shouted  for  “ wine,  wdne,”  with 
mouths  yet  wider  open.  This  exhausted  our  respect  for 


154 


MEDICINE  AND  SURGERY. 


the  church,  and  I swung  a whip  over  their  heads  so  sud- 
denly that  they  disaj^peared  like  divers,  and  swam  ashore 
again.  They  walked  by  our  side  three  miles  or  so  up  the 
river,  and  then  took  to  the  water  again,  and  swam  across 
to  the  convent,  wdiere,  I trust,  for  the  benefit  of  future 
travelers,  they  referred  the  question  I had  suggested  to  a 
chapter  of  the  worthy  brethren  of  the  Dayr  el  Adra — a 
forlorn  hope  verily. 

In  the  afternoon,  while  I was  away  shooting  geese,  one 
of  the  men  cut  his  hand  badly,  and  I found  on  my  return 
that  Miriam  had  bound  it  up  skillfully,  and  it  was  doing 
well.  But  he  insisted  on  my  examining  it,  and  I did  so. 
Every  man  on  the  boat  thereupon  presented  himself  with 
a wound,  bruise,  or  sore  of  some  sort  to  be  attended  to, 
excepting  one  only,  who,  after  diligent  search  over  his 
body,  could  find  nothing  but  an  ancient  wart  on  his  finger 
that  he  begged  to  have  removed. 

Medical  advice  and  medicine  are  the  most  frequent  de- 
mands, next  to  the  invariable  bucksheesh,  which  we  have 
to  reply  to,  not  alone  from  our  men,  but  from  men  along 
shore.  Women  bring  their  children  with  sore  eyes  and 
bruised  bodies,  and  beg  medicine,  advice,  and  bucksheesh. 

In  the  evening  the  deck  of  the  boat  presented  a scene 
that  I much  wished  to  have  before  me  for  preservation 
on  canvas.  Reis  Hassanein  had  an  old  uncle  who  came 
with  us  from  Cairo,  by  permission,  as  far  as  Manfaloot, 
where  he  resides.  He  was  an  ancient  reis  himself,  hav- 
ing navigated  the  Nile  for  fifty  years,  and  was  fifty  times 
the  man  that  his  nephew  was.  All  the  evening  he  was 
sitting  on  one  side  of  a lantern,  while  Abd-el-Atti  read 
aloud  to  him  from  a ponderous  volume  of  the  Arabian 
Nights,  and  the  old  man’s  face  would  light  up  with  a glow 
that  was  positively  fine,  as  some  passages  of  special  beauty 
or  spirit  struck  his  ear.  Abd-el-Atti  read  well,  and  his 
volume  of  the  Arabian  Nights  proved  a valuable  addition 


BOOKS. 


155 


to  OUT  library.  Thereby  hangs  a story,  too,  which  is 
worth  the  telling,  as  illustrating  the  manner  in  which 
things  are  sometimes  done  in  the  East. 

Mohammed  Ali,  among  his  other  good  deeds,  published 
a large  number  of  books  at  the  government  press  in 
Boulak,  and  among  other  books  he  printed  an  edition  of 
the  Arabian  Nights,  and  another  of  geometry,  both 
large  books,  the  former  in  two  volumes.  But  wdio  in 
Egypt  could  be  found  to  purchase  books  ? The  edition 
lay  unused,  unsold,  and  unread,  till  the  government 
issued  an  order  requiring  every  person  in  their  emj^loy 
to  take  five  or  more  copies  of  each.  A capital  way  of 
disseminating  information  this.  Some  hundreds  of  men 
who  could  not  read  a letter  were  thus  supplied  with  sev- 
eral copies  of  valuable  books.  The  result  was  that  they 
were  glad  to  sell  them  for  whatever  they  could  get,  and 
for  a while  books  were  cheap  in  Cairo. 


iif. 


“ Braheem  Effendi,”  said  Reis  Hassanein,  as  we  left 
Minieh,  after  examining  the  sugar  factories  there  and 
tasting  Said  Pasha’s  rum  which  he  distills  “in  spite  of 
Mohammed’s  law.”  The  effendi  was  in  his  usual  place 
with  his  chibouk,  on  the  larboard  side  of  the  cabin  deck, 
and  acknowledged  the  low  voice  of  the  reis  by  a look. 

“The  wely  yonder,  under  the  lig-trees,  is  death  to 
crocodiles.” 

It  was  a Moslem  tomb  standing  on  the  river  bank  in 
the  village  of  Minieh. 

“ Why  so  ?” 

“ Inshallah ! They  never  pass  it.  If  they  do  they  turn 
Avrong  side  uj)  and  float  down  dead.” 

Such  is  the  story.  Certain  it  is  that  the  first  crocodile 
I shot  at  going  up  was  a little  Avay  above  here  and  the  last 
one  coming  down  Avas  near  the  same  place. 

The  river  noAv  began  to  groAV  more  interesting.  The 
hills  on  either  side  Avere  more  or  less  pierced  Avith  tombs, 
and  early  the  next  morning  Ave  were  abreast  of  Beni 
Ilassan^  one  of  the  most  interesting  points  on  the  Nile. 
But  a breeze  from  the  north  is  never  to  be  throAvn  aAvay, 
and  Ave  did  not  stop  noAV  even  to  see  the  reputed  tomb 
of  Joseph. 

At  eA^ening,  under  the  foot  of  a lofty  bluff*,  we  passed  a 


A NEW  PASSENGER. 


157 


small  -Moslem  wely,  or  saint’s  tomb,  with  a white  dome 
over  it,  knowm  as  that  of  Sheik  Said.  A superstition  of 
the  river  leads  all  sailors  passing  this  to  throw  into  the 
water  some  bread  for  the  birds,  of  which  there  are  hun- 
dreds here.  They  are  a common  white  gull,  called  by 
the  sailors  Abou  Nouris^  and  are  said  to  inhabit  the 
tomb.  No  boat  refusing  the  gift  of  bread  can  hope  for  a 
safe  passage.  The  birds  swooped  down  in  clouds  to  pick 
lip  the  floating  pieces,  and  we  saw  the  ceremony  repeated 
by  four  boats  in  succession  descending  the  river  as  we 
went  up. 

Reis  Hassanein  had  a new  passenger  on  deck  that  morn- 
ing. It  appeared  that  while  we  were  lying  up  in  the 
night  a downward  going  boat  had  stopped  near  us  and 
proved  to  be  in  command  of  Hassanein’s  father,  and  to 
have  his  own  little  daughter  on  board,  going  down  to  see 
her  father  in  Cairo.  He  took  her  out  and  was  now  convey- 
ing her  back  to  Manfaloot,  her  and  his  home ; that  is  to 
say  as  much  his  home  as  any  place,  for  these  Nile  reises 
are  roving  jDeople  and  have  wives  and  families,  sailor 
fashion,  in  every  port.  The  fact  was  that  his  Manfaloot 
wife  became  uneasy  at  his  absence  of  more  than  a year, 
and  had  packed  ofi*  this  child  to  hunt  him  up. 

Hassanein  applied  for  permission  to  remain  in  Man- 
faloot over  one  night.  I warned  him  that  I didn’t  like 
this  sort  of  thing,  a wife  sending  a child  to  look  after  her 
father’s  habits  and  haunts,  and  that  he  must  look  out  for 
squalls  at  Manfaloot.  But  the  misguided  wretch  insisted 
on  his  desires,  and  after  due  consultation  Trumbull  and 
myself  agreed  to  leave  him  to  his  fate,  and  promised  to 
stop  at  Manfaloot  for  a night. 

Next  day  we  passed  the  cliffs  of  Aboufayda,  celebrated 
for  wild  and  furious  tempests,  but  we  found  them  calm, 
and  went  ingloriously  by  at  the  end  of  a tow  rope. 

Trumbull  and  myself  w^ent  ashore  in  the  afternoon,  and 


158 


THE  FATHER  OF  THE  TORCH. 


walked  some  miles  along  the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  examining 
empty  tombs  with  which  the  hills  were  honey-combed. 
Bones  and  mummy  cloths  abounded.  The  dead  had  been 
here,  but  were  gone  on  the  winds.  I climbed  one  hill 
two  or  three  hundred  feet,  and  looked  into  innumerable 
tombs  on  terraces,  but  found  nothing.  I found  one  nar- 
row cavernous  entrance  which  penetrated  far  into  the 
lull.  I had  not  then  adopted  a plan  I learned  soon,  never 
to  be  without  a candle  in  my  pocket.  I went  in  two  hun- 
dred feet  by  the  light  of  successive  pieces  of  paper,  and 
then  my  supply  was  exhausted,  and  I was  obliged  to  re- 
tire. I have  little  doubt  that  an  exploration  of  this  cav- 
ern would  repay  well.  It  is  not  mentioned  in  any  of  the 
books.  It  was  about  three  feet  wide  by  an  average  of 
six  high,  and  seemed  to  have  been  worked  in  the  rock. 
A little  way  above  this  we  passed  a great  collection  of 
modern  Christian  graves  in  a ravine  that  came  down  to 
the  river,  and  which  I suppose  to  be  near  the  village  Ebras. 

Descending  from  a hillside  where  I had  been  m tomb 
after  tomb,  I found  myself  almost  literally  on  the  top  of 
the  wely  of  Sheik  Abou  Meshalk  (Father  of  the  Torch), 
wherein  for  nearly  or  quite  a hundred  years  one  man 
lived  and  grew  old  and  fat  on  the  bucksheesh  of  passing 
boatman.  He  always  left  a light  burning  in  the  dome 
or  wely,  and  however  fierce  were  the  winds  around  Abou- 
fayda,  the  sailor  was  secure  who  caught  sight  of  the 
steady  gleam  of  Abou  Meshalk. 

The  old  man  died  about  six  years  ago,  and  his  grand- 
son, a brawny  Arab,  has  succeeded  him.  As  I leaped  to 
the  ground  at  the  very  door  of  the  tomb  he  demanded 
bucksheesh,  and  I gave  him  some  coppers,  whereat  he 
retired,  and  I marked  him  as  the  first  and  last  man  in 
Egypt  I have  seen  satisfied  with  a gift. 

Reis  Hassanein  left  the'  boat  to  cut  across  lots  and 
reach  Manfaloot  early  in  the  day.  We  arrived  at  evening, 


AFFLICTION  OF  HASSANEIN. 


159 


and  lie  was  already  satisfied.  He  stood  on  the  bank 
waiting  our  arrival,  and  he  did  not  venture  to  raise  his 
eyes  to  mine. 

“Was  all  right,  Reis  Hassanein?”  I shouted. 

“You  are  always  right,  O Braheem  Effendi,”  was  his 
melancholy  reply. 

He  had  found  not  only  a squall  but  a tempest  in  his 
house. 

“ She  said  she  knew  I had  another  wife  in  Cairo,”  said 
he  the  next  evening  as  we  sat  on  deck  together,  smoking 
quietly,  as  he  told  me  his  wrongs  and  afflictions ; “ and 
when  I denied  it,  she  beat  me,  and  she  called  in  her  father 
and  her  mother  and  her  brothers  and  all  her  family,  and 
they  put  me  in  a corner  and  kept  me  there  till  the  boat 
came.  And  when  I went  back  in  the  evening,  they  cor- 
nered me  again,  and  one  or  another  talked  to  me  all  night 
and  abused  me,  and  called  me  all  manner  of  names ; and 
if  you  please,  O Howajji,  I will  not  stop  at  Manfaloot 
when  we  go  down  the  river.” 

We  could  not  oblige  the  reis  in  this  request,  for  one  of 
my  most  interesting  adventures  in  Egyi:>t  occurred  in  the 
crocodile  pits  at  Maabdeh  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  at 
Manfaloot,  when  we  were  descending  the  Rile.  I believe 
that  the  reis  made  it  right  with  the  family  on  the  second 
visit  by  virtue  of  cash  and  presents  of  dates  from  Rubia. 

We  awoke  early  in  the  morning  on  our  apjDroach  to  Es 
Siout,  the  chief  city  of  Upper  Egypt. 

The  city  lies  back  from  the  river,  but  the  palace  of 
Latif  Pasha,  the  resident  governor,  is  directly  on  the 
bank.  A row  of  stone  steps,  designed  especially  for  the 
use  of  the  viceroy,  descends  from  the  palace  gate  to  the 
water,  and  at  the  foot  of  these  Abd-el-Atti  laid  up  the 
Phantom^  assuming  that  the  American  Howajjis  were  suf- 
ficiently noble  to  walk  up  such  steps,  especially  as  they 
carried  the  firman  of  the  viceroy  himself. 


160 


A RECEPTION. 


We  fired  some  guns  on  approaching  the  land,  and  a few 
moments  after  touching  the  stakes  two  ofiEicers  in  uniform 
came  down  by  the  side  of  the  steps — to  ask  the  names 
and  character  of  the  new  arrivals.  Abd-el-Atti  re- 
ceived them  on  deck  while  we  were  at  breakfast,  and  we 
had  scarcely  finished  when  another  ofiEicer  in  full  ENizam 
costume,  attended  by  two  aids,  came  on  board  and  an- 
nounced that  the  governor  himself  would  visit  us. 

We  could  not  consent  to  this,  and  hastened  up  to  the 
court  of  the  palace,  where  we  met  him  just  coming  out, 
and  he  returned  with  us  to  the  boat. 

The  reception  of  guests  in  the  East  has  been  so  fre- 
quently described  that  I may  run  the  risk  of  a repetition. 
Yet  I think  I may  venture,  once  for  all,  on  a minute  ac- 
count of  this  visit  as  an  illustration  of  eastern  manners. 

Latif  Pasha  is  one  of  the  finest-looking  men  I have  ever 
seen.  His  complexion  is  white  and  clear,  eyes  black  and 
roving,  an  exquisitely- cut  lip  over  'which  was  a mous- 
tache, closely  trimmed,  and  his  beard,  in  Turkish  style, 
also  cut  short ; for  a well-dressed  Turkish  gentleman  never 
wears  a long  beard.  He  was  dressed  in  the  Nizam  cos- 
tume, all  his  clothing  being  of  black  cloth,  his  shawl  a 
heavy  Damascus  silk,  wound  around  his  waist,  and  a red 
tarbouche  on  his  head,  with  white  takea  showing  under  it. 

As  he  entered,  two  officers  took  their  position  at  the 
door  of  the  cabin,  one  on  each  side,  and  his  pipe-bearer 
advanced  with  his  pipe  ready-filled  and  lighted. 

He  seated  himself  on  the  starboard  diwan,  and  Abd-el- 
Atti  stood  in  the  centre,  while  we  sat  opposite,  and  then 
commenced  the  usual  salutations,  repeated  in  various 
forms.  Latif  Pasha  understood  French  and  English,  but 
he  Avould  not  converse  except  in  Arabic  or  Turkish, 
through  Abd-el-Atti  as  interpreter. 

Coffee  was  served  instantly  on  his  taking  his  seat. 

Oriental  coffee  is  a dense,  dark  decoction,  sweetened 


LATIF  PASHA. 


16] 


and  served  in  tiny  cups,  each  cup  fitting  in  a silver  or 
gold  cup  a little  larger.  The  receiver  touches  his  hand 
to  his  breast  and  forehead  as  he  takes  it,  and  the  host  at 
the  same  moment  goes  through  the  same  form.  The 
cofiee  is  sipped  with  a loud  noise  of  the  lips,  and  the 
empty  cup  returned  to  a servant,  who  receives  it  on  the 
palm  of  one  hand  and  covers  it  with  the  other.  A wealthy 
Turkish  gentleman  carries  his  own  pipe  with  him,  having 
his  pipe-bearer  as  a constant  attendant.  We  were  abund- 
antly-well provided  with  chibouks,  and  not  unfrequently 
filled  ten  or  twelve  at  a time  in  the  cabin.  '' 

The  conversation,  which  began  in  the  usual  formal 
style,  gradually  ran  into  general  politics,  and  then  into 
general  matters,  and  his  excellency,  finding  our  tobacco 
and  cofiee  and  conversation  all  agreeable,  sat  the  morn- 
ing out. 

I am  under  very  great  obligations  to  Latif  Pasha  for  a 
pleasant  winter  in  Egypt,  and  I j>assed  a morning  with 
him  afterward  at  Minieh,  where  I had  opportunity  to  thank 
him  for  his  kindness.  He  furnished  me  with  full  letters 
of  credit  on  all  Upper  Egypt,  by  virtue  of  which  I was 
able  to  command  all  the  assistance  I desired  at  any  time, 
and  was  enabled  to  make  my  journeyings  rapid,  pleasant, 
and  successful. 

He  smoked  splendidly,  lipping  his  jeweled  amber 
mouth-piece  as  if  he  knew  what  a superb  lip  he  had,  and 
sending  clouds  of  smoke  through  his  moustache  and 
around  his  fine  face. 

He  apologized  for  not  returning  our  salute  in  the  morn- 
ing, as  he  had  no  gun  loaded.  He  made  up  for  it  in  the 
evening. 

When  he  left  us  we  accompanied  him  up  to  the  top  of 
the  steps,  the  distance  the  host  goes  with  his  guest  being 
the  measure  of  his  respect. 

A few  minutes  afterward  ten  donkeys,  of  the  most  rare 


1C2 


BEDOUIN  THROATS. 


and  elegant  breeds,  made  their  appearance,  being  placed 
at  our  service,  and  several  officers  having  orders  to  accom- 
pany ns  and  see  that  we  wanted  nothing.  We  mounted 
for  a ride  to  the  city  and  the  mountain  beyond. 

As  we  were  riding  up  the  long  avenue,  an  officer, 
splendidly  mounted,  rode  up  to  us,  and  with  profound 
respect  handed  me  a package  of  letters  to  various  officials 
on  the  upper  Nile,  which  had  been  instantly  prepared  by 
the  governor’s  directions,  and  at  the  same  time  informed 
us  that  Latif  Pasha  was  fearful  he  should  not  see  us  again, 
as  he  had  received  despatches  calling  him  down  the  river. 

We  knew  what  this  meant,  and  not  long  afterward 
heard  the  result  of  his  mission.  I have  already  mentioned 
the  Bedouins,  whom  Mohammed  Ali  reduced  to  civiliza- 
tion and  Said  Pasha  has  driven  into  revolt. 

Latif  was  the  man  for  them,  and  was  sent  to  look  after 
them.  Our  gentlemanly  friend  has  the  reputation  of  a 
devil  among  the  Arabs.  Some  time  after  this  I met  a 
Bedouin  near  Abydos,  and  heard  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  suppressed  this  revolt.  The  Bedouin  cursed  him  with 
all  the  curses  of  his  race. 

“ What  did  he  do  ?” 

The  fellow’s  wild  eye  flashed  at  me,  as  he  drew  the 
back  of  his  hand  across  his  throat  for  answer. 

“ How  many  ?” 

“ One  hundred  and  fifty !” 

I could  not  think  it  possible,  but  I learned  that  it  was 
probably  true.  The  law  requires  him  to  report  a sentence 
of  death  to  Said  Pasha.  He  obeys  the  law,  but  only  after 
executing  the  sentence. 

As  I before  remarked,  the  city  lies  more  than  a mile 
from  the  river,  near  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ; but  it  is 
separated  from  the  latter  by  a branch  of  the  river,  which 
makes  the  site  of  the  city  in  fact  an  island.  Over  this 
branch  stands  an  arched  stone  bridge,  and  below  it  the 


E S S I 0 U T . 


163 


picturesque  ruins  of  an  older  one  similar  to  it ; while  im- 
mediately after  crossing  the  bridge  commences  the  ab- 
rupt ascent  of  the  mountain,  wdiich  is  filled  with  tombs 
and  grottoes.  From  the  river  to  the  city  the  road  is 
raised  some  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain,  which  is 
overflow^ed  at  high  Nile.  The  ajqoroach  by  this  curving 
route  is  very  picturesque,  and  the  appearance  of  the  city 
is,  in  all  respects,  more  beautiful  than  any  thing  I have 
seen  in  Egypt.  Fifteen  or  twenty  mosks  lift  their  grace- 
ful minarets  among  groves  of  palms;  and  the  private 
liouses  of  the  city,  which  are  built  in  much  better  style 
than  in  Cairo,  present  an  appearance  that  is  refreshing  to 
the  eye  so  long  accustomed  to  mud  and  crude  brick. 

Es  Siout  occupies  the  site  of  the  ancient  Lycopolis, 
“the  City  of  Wolves,”  so  called  from  the  worship,  by  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  of  the  god  to  Avhom  the  Avolf  was  sa- 
cred, and  a consequent  respect  to  the  animal,  evinced  by 
the  immense  number  of  them  found  mummied  in  the 
catacombs  among  the  hills.  Of  the  ancient  city  little 
or  nothing  now  remains,  and  of  its  ancient  inhabitants 
no  memorial,  except  their  empty  tombs,  which  darken 
the  mountain-side  like  melancholy  eyes  looking  over  the 
plain  that  once  gleamed  with  art,  and  arms,  and  wealth, 
and  magnificence.  Sometimes,  indeed,  an  industrious 
Arab,  mindful  of  the  value  which  is  set  on  the  bones  of 
his  dead  predecessors,  excavates  a new  tomb,  and  dis- 
lodges the  occupant  who  has  slept  so  many  thousand 
years  in  its  gloomy  silence.  But  this  is  not  often,  and 
most  travelers  who  have  visited  the  catacombs  of  Es 
Siout  record  the  sight  of  wolves  prowling  among  them, 
and  Mohammedan  funerals  in  the  cemetery  below,  as  the 
only  things  Avorthy  of  record  that  they  saw  from  the  hill. 

AVe  saAv  the  funerals,  but  no  Avolves.  Perhaps  those 
Avho  have  been  before  us  have  seen  foxes,  Avhich  Ave 
did  see,  and  mistook  them  for  Avolves ; or  possibly  they 


164 


EMPTY  TOMBS. 


did  see  wolves,  which  are  not  so  very  uncommon  on 
the  Nile.  We  rode  rapidly  through  the  city.  The 
bazaars  were  very  busy,  and  the  people  were  apparently 
less  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  a Christian  than  those  in 
other  cities  of  Egypt,  for  they  crowded  around  us  as 
children  around  a menagerie,  so  that  at  times  the  cawass 
had  difficulty  in  clearing  our  passage.  On  the  hill  we 
paused  awhile  to  survey  the  magnificent  view  over  the 
plain,  and  then  entered  the  Stabl  Antar,  the  great  tomb 
of  some  unknown  grandee  of  the  old  time,  whose  dust 
was  long  ago  scattered  on  the  Nile. 

It  is  an  immense  chamber,  cut  in  the  rock,  having  a 
lofty  doorway  opening  out  on  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
The  vaulted  roof  of  the  room  is  nearly  or  quite  fifty  feet 
in  height,  and  from  this  chamber  arched  passages  lead  in 
various  directions,  now  nearly  filled  with  sand  and  the 
crumbling  stone  of  their  roofs. 

Into  one  of  these  passages  I crawled  on  my  hands  and 
knees  for  two  hundred  feet,  where  it  spread  out  into  an 
immense  chamber,  but  I could  not  stand  upright  any- 
where in  it.  Under  one  side  of  it  there  was  a lower 
chamber,  into  the  roof  of  which  some  rude  hands  had 
broken  an  opening  in  former  years,  and  around  it  lay 
dead  men’s  bones  and  the  relics  of  ancient  humanity. 
My  feet  crushed  them  at  every  step.  I held  my  candle 
down  in  the  chasm,  and  could  see  indistinctly  the  bottom 
ten  feet  below.  I let  myself  down,  and  dropped,  safely 
indeed,  but  with  a fearful  rattle  of  bones  around  my  feet. 

The  spoiler  had  been  here  long  ago,  nor  was  there  any 
evidence  who,  or  how  many,  had  slept  out  the  centuries 
here  in  darkness,  nor  when  their  slumber  was  disturbed. 
There  was  evidence,  indeed,  of  nothing,  save  only  that, 
somewhere  in  God’s  great  universe,  there  are  souls, 
spirits  of  light  or  gloom,  who  once  wielded  these  bones 
for  earthly  uses,  and  who  now  know  nothing  and  care 


HAUNTING  SPIRITS. 


165 


nothing  for  their  fate.  Perhaps  this  is^  not  so.  In  fact 
it  does  violate  one  of  our  dearest  fancies — call  it  belief, 
for  I believe  it — that  the  dead  do  linger  with  somewhat 
of  affection  around  the  clay  homes  they  once  inhabited, 
and  best  love  the  flowers  that  s]3ring  from  the  dust 
-which  was  once  their  own.  If  so,  \vhat  ghostly  com- 
panies are  in  this  valley  of  the  Nile ! for  here  there  is 
little  trouble  in  flnding  their  bodies.  In  other  lands 
they  pass  into  grass,  and  trees,  and  all  the  mutations 
that  are  the  course  of  nature ; but  here,  in  black  hideous- 
ness, they  lie  in  rocky  sepulchres,  millions  on  millions, 
the  dead  of  two  thousand  years  of  glory  such  as  no  na- 
tion before  or  since  has  equaled ; and  could  we  but 
speak  into  visible  existence  their  haunting  spirits,  what 
room  above  this  narrow-  valley  would  there  be  to  let  the 
moonlight  through  then-  crow^ded  ranks  ? What  maidens 
would  sit  on  white  rocks  over  the  burial-vaults  of  lovers ! 
what  mothers,  in  white-robed  sorrow,  would  bow  their 
heads  over  the  forms  of  beloved  children ! what  angel- 
watchers  would  be  seen  at  head  and  foot  of  countless 
fathers  and  friends ! 

We  ate  our  lunch  in  the  large  room,  spreading  our 
carpets  in  the  centre,  where  we  could  look  out  across 
the  valley  and  feast  our  eyes  with  the  glorious  view.  In 
the  foreground  was  the  city ; beyond,  its  groves  of 
l^ahns,  and  then  the  lordly  river,  on  which  the  only 
visible  flag  w^as  our  own — the  only  memorial  before  us  of 
home.  While  we  ate,  the  cawass  and  ten  or  a dozen  at- 
tendants, men  and  boys,  sat  outside  the  dooiwvay,  and 
one  of  them  chanted  to  the  others  a chapter  from  the 
Koran.  It  rang  in  the  vault  of  the  room,  and,  closing 
our  eyes,  we  could  imagine  ourselves  in  a cathedral  of 
Europe,  so  priest-like  was  the  sound. 

Lunch  over,  I left  the  ladies  and  climbed  to  the  toj)  of 
the  hill,  looking  into  a hundred  tombs  on  the  sides  of  the 


166 


MORS  ^QUO  PEDE. 


rocky  terraces,  and  finally  crossing  the  summit,  where  I 
descended  into  a wild  ravine,  the  habitation  of  desolation 
itself.  Here,  musing  as  I walked,  I started  a fox  from 
his  hole  in  some  recess  of  a tomb,  and  as  he  dashed  down 
the  side  of  the  hill  I sent  a ball  after  him.  It  did  not 
stop  him,  though  it  killed  him,  for  he  went  a hundred 
feet  down  and  fell  into  the  ravine,  while  the  sound  rang 
through  the  rocky  chasms  Avith  a hundred  echoes  that 
might  Avell  have  startled  the  sleepers  under  those  gray 
hills.  Descending  to  secure  my  game,  I returned  to  the 
party  by  a path  around  the  hill,  and  came  upon  a crude 
brick  ruin,  Avhich  may  be  Christian  or  possibly  Roman. 
It  Avas  remarkable  only  for  the  abundance  of  scorpions 
Avhich  Avere  in  the  walls,  and  I killed  a dozen  Avithin  a 
minute,  perforating  tAVO  of  them  Avith  a thorn  for  ex- 
hibition to  the  ladies,  Avho  had  heard  much  of  them,  as 
common  in  Egypt,  but  Avho  had  ncA'er  yet  seen  any. 

I found  them  still  sitting  in  the  doorAvay  of  the  Stabl 
Antar,  looking  out  on  the  valley  vieAV,  and  on  a mourn- 
ful procession  that  carried  a dead  man  to  the  burial-place 
in  the  sand  near  the  foot  of  the  hiU. ' The  loud  cries  of 
the  mourners,  mingled  AAuth  the  chant  of  the  beareijS, 
came  uj)  to  us  Avith  peculiar  effect.  We  sat  silent  in  the 
broken  entrance  of  an  ancient  prince’s  tomb,  to  Av^atch 
the  burial  of  the  poor  fellah,  and  Avonder  hoAV  many  days 
the  Avolves  and  jackals  Avould  let  him  repose. 


iB. 

Iliqulisgibiog 

From  the  hill  above  Es  Siout  we  obtained  one  of  the 
finest  views  of  agricultural  Egypt,  that  the  country  offers. 
I have  already  spoken  of  the  simple  method  of  cultiva- 
tion. Here  we  began  to  learn  the  nature  of  the  crops  of 
Egypt. 

Sugar-cane  began  to  abound,  and  above  here  cotton 
was  plenty.  At  Es  Siout  as  indeed  throughout  Egypt  the 
great  crop  is  corn,  doura  and  wheat  being  most  plenty. 
Doura  is  of  two  kinds,  and  but  two.  The  millet,  growing 
one  large  ear  on  the  top  of  the  corn-stalk,  and  the  Doura 
Shamee^  or  Syrian  doura,  as  it  is  called,  which  is  our  or- 
dinary Indian  corn.  The  latter  is  of  poor  quality  as  to 
the  yield,  but  is  sweet,  and  makes  excellent  meal.  The 
antiquity  of  the  millet,  or  native  doura,  is  great,  as  is  evi- 
dent from  the  monuments,  where  we  find  it  often  rep- 
resented in  farming  scenes.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be 
supposed  that  these  are  the  only  products  of  Egyptian 
soil.  Beans  grow  in  great  quantities,  lupins  and  lentils 
abound,  and  immense  fields  of  bamia^  the  edible  hybiscus, 
(sometimes  called  ocre),  are  found  near  all  the  large 
towns.  Onions  abound,  and  a large  bulbous  root,  known 
as  the  ghoulghas^  or  oulas^  is  used  as  a substitute  for 
the  potato,  Avhich  does  not  flourish  here. 

There  is  but  one  form  of  tool  for  hand  use  by  one  man 


168 


L A T A K E A . 


that  I have  seen  in  Egypt.  It  is  a species  of  hoe,  but 
more  like  a broad  pick,  very  heavy  and  unwieldy,  known 
as  the  gedoom.  It  is  in  fact  a carpenter’s  adze,  and  is 
used  as  ax,  hammer,  hoe,  rake,  spade,  and  shovel.  An- 
other form  of  hoe  or  scraper,  used  for  making  the  small 
squares  which  I have  described,  is  a flat  piece  of  board, 
with  a handle  held  by  one  man,  and  two  ropes  held  by 
two  others,  who  draw  it  while  the  one  guides  it  over  the 
ground.  Thus  three  men  do  less  work  than  one  would 
do  with  a good  tool. 

Threshing  is  done,  as  of  old,  by  the  oxen  treading  out 
the  grain,  and  it  is  winnowed  in  the  wind.  Some  instru- 
ments are  in  use  to  assist  in  this  work ; but  they  are 
simple  and  rude,  and  but  little  advantage  is  derived  from 
them,  most  of  the  natives  preferring  the  simpler  process. 
I wish  a thousand  Yankee  farmers  could  be  in  Egypt  for 
ten  years,  and  I believe  it  "svould  be  the  garden  of  the 
world. 

We  took  a shorter  path  down  the  hill  than  that  which 
we  had  ascended,  and  made  some  h'eavy  plunges  over 
stee|3  places,  where  two  Arabs  to  a lady  and  a third  to 
the  donkey  were  hardly  sufficient  to  keep  them  safe  from 
accident.  But  the  foot  of  the  hill  was  safely  reached  at 
length,  and  we  trotted  rapidly  across  the  bridge  and  into 
the  city  again. 

Before  returning  to  the  boat  we  paused  in  the  bazaars 
to  make  some  purchases,  and  especially  to  replenish  our 
stock  of  pipe  bowls,  which  had  become  low. 

Forever  to  be  remembered  are  the  chibouks  of  Egypt, 
and  the  tobacco  called  Latakea,  from  the  city  that  was 
the  ancient  Laodicea,  not  the  Laodicea  once  celebrated 
for  the  Christian  Church,  but  its  namesake  in  Syria. 
The  chibouk,  O my  friend!  is  not  very  different  from 
the  pipe  that  you  and  I used  to  smoke  in  college  days, 
when  we  had  reeds  bored,  some  six  feet  long,  and 


AN  AISIERICAN  BABY. 


169 


rested  the  bowl  on  the  other  side  of  the  room.  It  is  but 
a long  stick  with  a clay  bowl  for  the  tobacco,  and  the 
w^ealth  of  the  owner  determines  the  elegance  of  the  orna- 
ments. The  amber  mouth-piece  is  a necessity  on  an 
eastern  chibouk,  and  on  this  are  set  jewels  of  every  de- 
scription. The  stick  itself  is  common  dog-wood,  oi 
cherry,  or  jessamine;  and  as  the  pipe-maker  is  always  at 
hand,  and  will  bore  a stick  in  two  minutes  at  any  time,  it 
is  not  uncommon  for  a host  to  have  branches  of  roses  or 
other  plants  loaded  wdth  fragrant  blossoms  bored  for 
pipe-sticks,  and  handed  to  his  guests  fresh  from  the  gar- 
den. Es  Siout  is  celebrated  for  its  manufacture  of  pipe- 
bowls,  whence  come  the  best  in  Egypt;  and  besides 
these,  the  wmrkers  in  clay  make  many  small  affairs — 
match-boxes,  cups,  and  j^lates,  vases,  and  like  articles, 
W'hich  are  curious  and  even  beautiful  in  appearance,  and 
with  which  we  loaded  ourselves  as  we  returned  to  the 
boat. 

On  our  way  back  we  met  a party  of  Franks  whom,  on 
approaching,  we  with  pleasure  recognized  as  our  mis- 
sionary friends  whose  boat  we  had  passed  on  the  first  day 
out  from  Caii’o. 

It  was  a keen  pleasure  to  meet  American  faces  in  such 
a spot,  and  the  sight  of  an  American  baby,  born  in  Cairo 
indeed,  but  no  less  American  for  that,  in  the  streets  of 
Es  Siout,  is  a sight  that  Upper  Egypt  does  not  often  fur- 
nish to  the  eyes  of  a traveler  tired  of  gazing  on  the 
miserable,  squalid,  and  filthy  scarabcei^  that  are  called 
children  in  Egypt.  The  missionary  boat  continued  in 
company  with  us  as  far  as  Es  Souan,  and  I shall  hereafter 
describe  our  parting  with  them  in  the  moonlit  gorges  of 
the  cataract. 

Near  the  landing  was  a brick  yard,  wdiich  attracted  our 
attention,  as  had  numerous  others  in  Egypt. 

The  manufacture  of  brick  in  the  land  of  bondage  will 

8 


1*70 


BRICK  - MAKING. 


always  be  an  interesting  subject  of  investigation  to  trav- 
elers. 

It  was  not  common  among  the  ancients  to  burn  brick. 
It  is  no  more  common  now.  It  is  almost  incredible,  to 
one  who  has  not  visited  this  country,  that  immense  ruins 
remain  of  buildings  and  walls,  composed  entirely  of  these 
unburned  brick — mere  Xile  mud  sun-dried — which  date 
quite  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  the  children  of  Israel. 
Large  structures  remain,  of  which  every  brick  bears  the 
name  of  Thothmes  III.,  the  supposed  Pharaoh  of  the  Ex- 
odus, and  he  who  is  incredulous  of  the  genuineness  of 
these  may  convince  himself  by  visiting  Egypt,  where  he 
may  turn  hundreds  of  them  over  with  the  toe  of  his  boot, 
and  read  the  ancient  legend. 

The  making  of  brick,  in  those  days,  was  much  more  of 
a business  than  now,  for  the  great  population  of  the  coun- 
try doubtless  required  a constant  supply  of  building 
material,  and  the  mud  was  probably  then,  as  now,  the 
chief  article  in  use  for  this  purpose.  But  aside  from  this, 
kings  built  pyramids  of  brick,  which  yet  stand,  and  inclos- 
ures of  temples,  and  residences  for  priests,  and  city  fortifi- 
cations, and  all  the  other  massive  structures  for  which 
other  countries  use  w’ood  and  stone.  There  was,  there- 
fore, employment  enough  for  the  miserable  sons  of 
Israel. 

Doubtless  the  modern  process  of  brick-making  is 
similar  to  that  then  in  use,  and  a brief  explanation  of 
the  method,  which  we  saw  here  and  often  elsewhere 
along  the  river,  will  serve  to  make  the  history  of  the 
Israelites  mere  intelligible  to  many  readers.  The  mud 
of  the  Nile  is  the  sole  article  now  in  use  for  Egyptian 
house-building,  and  this  is  either  roughly  plastered  uj:)  in 
mud  walls,  or  shaped  in  the  form  of  brick,  and  dried  in 
the  sun. 

I passed  by  some  men  who  were  building  a tomb.  It 


fWfl 


Figs.  4,  5,  1.  Carrying  brick  and  returning. 
Figs.  7,  9,  12,  13.  Digging  the  clay  or  mud. 
Figs.  14,  15.  Fetching  water  from  the  tank. 
Figs.  3,  6.  Taskmasters. 

Figs.  8,  16.  Making  bricks  with  a mould. 
Figs.  2, 10, 11.  Collecting  and  carrying  mud. 


FOBEIQN  CAPTIVES  EMPLOYED  IN  MAKING  BRICK  AT  THEBES.  FRO.M  TOMB  NO. 


CHILDREN  OF  ISRAEL. 


173 


was  made  of  crude  brick,  and  they  paused  in  their  work 
to  make  their  bricks,  which  was  done  by  preparing  a bed 
to  hold  water,  into  which  they  threw  mud,  and,  over  all, 
large  quantities  of  cut  straw.  This  they  trod  into  the 
mud  with  their  feet ; and  when  the  whole  was  thoroughly 
mixed,  they  took  out  large  lumps  with  their  hands,  which 
they  dexterously  shaped  into  bricks,  and  laid  down  to 
dry.  At  another  place  I saw  two  men  at  the  same  work, 
with  only  this  difference,  that  they  held  in  their  hands  a 
rude  mould,  into  which  they  thrust  the  mud,  and  from 
which  they  almost  instantly  shook  out  the  brick,  and  left 
it  to  dry  in  the  sun.  The  tenacity  of  the  Xile  mud 
almost  passes  description ; and  until  one  has  his  foot  in  it, 
he  can  not  fully  understand  it.  That  a similar  process 
was  used  by  the  ancient  Egyptians,  and  probably  by  the 
Israelites,  we  are  not  left  to  doubt.  We  are  fortunate 
in  an  illustration  of  the  ancient  manufacture,  copied  by 
Wilkinson  from  a tomb  at  Thebes,  which  is  known  there  as 
number  35,  and  of  which  I shall  sj>eak  fully  when  describ- 
ing Thebes.  On  the  wall  of  that  tomb  we  find  all  the 
process  of  brick-making,  from  the  gathering  of  the  mud 
to  the  drying  and  counting  of  the  tale.  ' ■ 

Of  course  great  interest  has  been  felt  in  this  tomb  and 
representation,  very  many  persons  supposing  the  captives 
here  laboring  under  the  lash  to  be  Israelites.  This,  how- 
ever, is  not  the  case,  as  appears  from  various  reasons,  of 
which  the  style  and  character  of  the  faces,  the  color  of 
the  hair,  and  eyes,  and  beard,  and  the  name  of  the  cap- 
tive people  given  on  the  tomb,  are  sufiicient. 

As  I sat  at  my  table  writing  at  midnight  that  night  I 
was  startled  by  the  flashing  of  brilliant  lights  on  the  bank, 
and  lookmg  out  saw  Latif  Pasha  coming  from  his  palace, 
on  the  way  to  his  dahabeeh,  which  lay  a few  rods  astern 
of  ours.  Twenty  or  thirty  glaring  meshalks,  each  one  a 
furnace  of  flame,  on  a long  pole,  glared  on  the  white  wall 


174 


THANKS  GIVING. 


of  the  palace,  and  on  the  boats  at  the  shore,  as  he  came 
out,  attended  by  a guard  of  not  less  than  two  hundred 
soldiers.  He  rode  a white  horse  ; and  catching  sight  of 
me  at  the  cabin  window,  waved  a graceful  bow  as  he 
passed  on. 

A steamer  was  waiting  to  tow  his  boat.  He  had  been 
detained  until  this  late  hour.  As  the  steamer  turned 
her  wheels,  he  commenced  firing  a salute,  and  as  I had 
some  thirty  odd  barrels  loaded,  I began  u reply.  Every 
one  else  on  the  Phantom  was  sound  asleep,  except  Abd- 
el-Atti,  and  he  re-loaded  as  fast  as  I fired.  So  we  kept  it 
up  till  the  pasha  'was  far  down  the  river;  and  I could 
hear  the  faint  sound  of  his  guns  from  miles  away  in  the 
still  air  of  the  Nile. 

The  next  morning  was  Thursday,  November  29th. 
We  knew  very  well  that  it  must  be  Thanksgiving  day  in 
some  of  the  States  at  home,  and  we  had  tolerable  cer- 
tainty that  it  was  so  in  ISTew  York  and  Connecticut.  As 
we  were  to  leave  at  noon,  our  American  friends  accepted 
an  invitation  to  breakfast  "with  us,  and  we  made  our 
Thanksgiving  feast  at  about  the  time  that  you  were 
sleeping  your  hardest  in  America. 

And  with  the  day  came  thronging  all  the  memories 
that  hallow  that  day.  Who  has  not  pleasant,  who  is  so 
happy  as  not  to  have  sad  memories  of  the  annual  feast  ? 
What  table  is  full,  without  one  empty  chair  ? 

In  my  Yile  boat  I sat  down  alone  at  sunrise  to  watch 
the  coming  of  the  day  on  this  strange  land ; and  with  his 
coming  I seemed  to  have  new  light  poured  on  the  dim 
and  distant  past,  by  which  I read  the  story  of  my  first 
affiiction  over  and  over. 

How  often  have  I thought  of  him  here,  my  boy-com- 
panion, my  guide,  my  brother,  counselor,  friend ! It  was 
always  the  saddest  thought  I had  in  connection  with  this 
visit  to  the  East,  that  he  had  died  without  seeing  it.  I 


MEMORIES. 


175 


could  not  bring  my  mind  to  tlie  idea  that  he  has  seen  a 
city  whose  foundations,  in  adamant  and  gold,  surpass  the 
splendor  of  the  Jerusalem  toward  which  I travel.  But 
since  I have  come  here — since  I have  looked  uj)  into 
these  skies,  whose  deep  blue  beauty  and  unfathomable 
glory  seem  to  bear  the  memory  of  the  days  when  they 
received  our  ascending  Lord  into  their  radiant  depths — 
since  I have  breathed  the  east  wind  from  Bethlehem, 
and  begin  to  see  clearly  my  pathway  to  the  cross  and  the 
tomb  of  our  Master  and  Saviour,  I say  now  I realize  that 
he  Avhom  I so  loved  in  boyhood,  whom  I have  so  mourned 
in  secret  in  all  my  years  of  wandering  life ; whose  lips 
have  whispered  to  me  a thousand  times  in  the  solemn 
nights — that  he  has  seen,  with  clearer  eyes  than  mine, 
the  grandeur  of  Egypt,  and  the  olives  of  the  hills  of  Jeru- 
salem. 

Did  I not  tell  you  once,  my  friend,  that  I thought  the 
sky  must  be  lower  down  over  the  Holy  Land  than  else- 
where, from  the  crowding  thitherward  of  the  footsteps  of 
the  angels,  and  that  heaven  must  be  nearer  there  than  our 
cold  western  clime  ? It  is  so,  I think  ; and  already  I am 
where  the  arch  is  lower,  for  I never  felt  so  near  him  as 
here.  He  sleeps — not  where  we  laid  him  then,  but  where 
we  laid  him  last,  on  the  forest  hill,  near  our  great  city,  in 
the  congregation  of  the  dead.  He  does  not  hear  aught  of 
the  long,  loud  roar  of  the  city,  the  tramp  of  the  thousands, 
the  sounds  of  warring,  wrangling  life  there.  He  hears 
not  that,  but  he  did  hear  me,  as  the  morning  sun  rose  up 
above  the  Arabian  desert  and  poured  his  flood  of  light 
on  this  slavish  land — he  did  hear  me  praying  for  a bless- 
ing on  the  ‘old  folks  at  home’  on  that  Thanksgiving 
morning,  and  I heard  his  voice,  too,  from  the  deep  sky. 
It  was  not  till  the  sun  was  far  up,  and  the  sounds  of 
Arab  life  were  heard  on  all  sides  of  me,  that  I lost  the  in- 
fluence of  that  morning  reverie. 


17G 


A NOVEL  PO  ST. 


The  coolness  of  these  Arabs  is  amusing.  It  was  not 
enough  that  we  should  occupy  the  viceroy’s  steps  with 
our  boat,  but  our  men  erected  their  poles  on  lines  at  the 
top  of  them  in  front  of  the  palace  gates,  and  all  manner 
of  clothing,  unmentionable  articles  of  ladies’  and  gentle- 
men’s apparel,  were  floating  in  the  wind  before  the  door 
of  the  governor  of  U pper  Egypt,  doubtless  much  to  the 
edification  of  the  ladies  of  his  hareem,  who  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  studying  Christian  styles  of  dress  and  American 
costumes.  Nor  was  this  all.  One-eyed  Mustapha,  the 
cook’s  servant,  killed  a sheep  on  the  steps  themselves, 
and  when  I went  out  to  see  what  was  going  on,  I found 
the  Arab  hound  actually  skinning  the  animal  before  he 
was  dead.  I was  strongly  inclined  to  have  him  flogged 
till  he  understood  the  meaning  of  flaying  alive. 

The  mails  of  Egypt  go  by  a curious  sort  of  post.  All 
Egypt  is  on  the  Nile,  as  every  one  knows,  and  one  line 
of  mail  service  up  and  down  the  river  goes  through  every 
city  and  village  from  Cairo  to  Es  Souan.  This  line  is  cut 
into  sections,  and  on  each  section  is  a foot  runner,  who 
goes  over  his  course  three  or  four  times  a day,  back  and 
forward,  meeting  the  next  runner  at  each  end  of  his  sec- 
tion, and  passing  along  from  one  to  the  other  any  letter 
he  may  receive.  Thus  no  mail-bag  is  made  up,  but  letters 
are  passed  smgly.  I sent  my  letters  to  the  local  governor 
at  Es  Siout,  to  be  j)Osted  in  this  way ; but  he  had  orders 
to  take  special  care  of  me  and  my  wishes,  and  forthwith 
despatched  an  express  Avith  them.  This  is  the  method 
Avith  all  government  letters.  They  go  by  dromedary, 
crossing  the  desert  and  avoiding  the  long  bends  of  the 
river.  It  Avas  somewhat  strange  to  folloAV  Avith  my  im- 
agination those  letters  on  their  Avanderings,  and  I sat  that 
evening  thinking  of  the  dromedary  carrying  an  Arab 
charged  Avith  those  precious  Avords  of  affection,  crossing 
the  desert  back  of  the  lofty  hills  of  Aboufayda,  guided 


DROMEDARY  EXPRESS. 


Ill 


by  the  stars  as  he  hastened  northward.  In  what  wild  and 
dark  pass  of  the  mountains  he  might  lie  down  to  sleep, 
who  could  tell  ? What  howling  wolves  or  fierce  hyenas 
would  follow  his  steps,  wdio  might  know  ? On  M'hat  sandy 
plain,  in  what  Arab  tent  or  hut  of  fellah,  might  they  rest ! 
What  moonlights  would  look  down  on  their  swift  course 
across  the  desert — what  hot  suns  would  weary  the  carrier 
before  they  reached  the  city  of  Victory ! It  was  some- 
thing to  have  a dromedary  express  despatched  with  one’s 
letters,  hoping  only  that  the  envelopes  would  be  kept  at 
home  in  some  safe  place,  that  I might  look  on  them  and 
endeavor  thereby  to  learn  something  of  their  eventfid 
travel. 


Jife  JiloKtg  fl)e  fjibel-. 

The  bread  was  ready.  Have  I or  have  I not  mentioned 
that  the  object  of  a stay  of  two  days  at  Es  Siout  was  to 
give  the  crew  of  the  boat  an  opportunity  to  bake  bread, 
which  is  their  sole  article  of  food,  and  w^hich  is  always 
renewed  at  this  point,  and  again  at  Esne  ? 

The  Nile  boatman  is  siii  generis.  There  is  no  other 
race  of  men  in  the  world  like  this.  They  live  a misera- 
ble life  of  hard  labor  without  enough  pay  to  be  able  to 
save  a farthing,  and  yet  they  seem  to  be  always  happy. 
Their  songs  make  the  night  musical,  and  all  day  long,  at 
oars  or  the  tow-rope,  they  go  chanting  and  singing  as 
cheerfully  as  if  they  received  thirty  instead  of  three  dol- 
lars a month,  and  were  well  fed  and  clothed,  instead  of 
having  to  feed  and  to  clothe  themselves  out  of  this  mis- 
erable pay.  Their  food  is  but  the  poorest  sort  of  bread, 
baked  and  broken  into  pieces  and  dried  on  deck  in  the 
sun.  A heap  of  several  bushels  of  it  always  lies  on  the 
cabin  deck,  and  this  is  boiled  in  Nile  water,  making  a sort 
of  mush  or  soft  mass,  which  the  men  surround  three  times 
a day,  and  eat  with  their  hands,  dipping  out  of  the  one 
wooden  bowl,  which  is  their  sole  possession  in  the  shape 
of  plate  or  dish. 

At  Es  Siout  they  stoj^ped,  as  I said,  to  renew  their  su]3- 
ply.  This  would  seem  to  be  an  easy  matter.  But  it  is 


PELICANS. 


1V9 


not  so  easy.  They  arrived  at  eight  in  the  morning,  and 
went  instantly  to  purchase  wheat.  This  they  took  to  a 
mill  to  have  ground.  When  ground,  they  took  the  flour 
to  the  baker’s,  where  they  mixed  the  bread  themselves, 
and  then  handed  it  over  to  the  baker,  who  is  in  fact  only 
a baker,  and  not  a maker,  of  bread.  At  twelve  at  noon 
on  the  next  day  the  bread  had  arrived  on  board,  and  we 
sailed  from  Es  Siout,  and  were  now  fairly  on  the  upper 
Nile. 

The  dom  palm-tree  now  appearing  on  the  shore,  changes 
the  hitherto  uniform  aspect  of  the  palm  groves,  and  the 
shadoof  poles  seem  to  grow  more  abundant.  The  irri- 
gation of  the  land  is  kept  up  by  steadfast,  hard  labor,  and 
it  is  remarkable  that  no  pumps  or  other  improved  hy- 
draulic machines  are  used  in  Egypt.  No  improvement 
has  been  made  on  this  in  three  thousand  years.  I have 
no  doubt  that  the  banks  of  the  Nile  present  now  in  many 
jdaces  the  exact  aspect  which  they  presented  so  many 
centuries  ago. 

At  evening  of  the  next  day  we  were  under  the  cliffs 
of  Sheik  Herreddee,  whereof  the  tradition  saith  that  a 
serpent  resides  there,  gifted  with  miraculous  powers  to 
heal  all  manner  of  diseases.  It  would  cure  a blind  man, 
could  he  but  have  a momentary  glimpse  of  the  sj^lendor 
of  the  hill  in  the  light  of  a setting  Egyptian  sun.  This 
was  the  last  night  of  the  autumn,  and  the  winter  came  on 
us  next  morning  right  gloriously  with  a flush  of  gold  in 
the  east,  and  the  full-orbed  splendor  of  the  sun,  and  an 
air  balmy  as  June,  and  a sky  that  tempted  one  heaven- 
ward. Pelicans  began  to  be  plenty.  That  morning  we 
shot  two,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  half  a dozen  geese 
and  as  many  ducks.  We  made  no  count  of  the  pigeons 
that  we  shot ; they  were  innumerable.  There  was  one 
day,  when  we  were  at  Negaddeh,  that  we  shot  three  hun- 
dred and  six,  which  we  distributed  to  our  neighbors  in 


180 


CROCODILES. 


other  boats,  giving  our  men  as  many  as  they  could  eat 
for  three  days. 

All  along  the  river  game  began  to  abound,  and  croco- 
diles were  frequently  seen  on  the  sand-banks.  I shot  at 
several,  as  all  travelers  must  do ; but  I killed  none,  as  all 
travelers  must  say.  There  was  one  which  I came  very 
near  to  killing.  Had  he  waited  for  me,  I should  have  hit 
him.  He  was  sunning  himself  on  a bank,  and  I crawled 
quietly  toward  him ; but  when  I got  there,  he  was  not 
there.  The  trochilus^  the  bird  celebrated  as  the  watching 
friend  of  the  crocodile,  who  is  said  to  warn  him  of  the 
approach  of  enemies,  flew  before  me  with  a loud  cry,  and 
perhaps  alarmed  him.  I can  not  say  that  I verified  the 
story  of  this  bird’s  habits  and  friendship  for  the  huge 
water  monster,  but  I have  no  doubt  that  in  this  case  he 
did  act  as  ancient  and  modern  writers  say  he  is  in  the 
habit  of  doing.  But  he  also  acted  precisely  as  he  and  a 
thousand  like  him  have  done  every  day  that  I have  been 
on  the  ISTile,  and  I am  quite  certain  that  if  there  had  been 
no  crocodile  there,  he  would  have  gone  along  before  me 
in  the  same  way,  with  the  same  sharp,  shrill  cry. 

As  we  approached  Mensheeh,  I had  walked  along 
the  shore  ahead  of  the  boat,  and  on  reaching  the  village 
met  Suleiman  Aga,  the  local  governor,  taking  a walk 
with  his  old  uncle  on  the  bank.  He  was  apparently 
delighted  at  seeing  the  face  of  a stranger,  for  he  said 
he  led  a life  of  imprisonment  in  his  village,  and  was 
glad  of  any  relief  to  its  monotony.  He  walked  up  the 
bank  with  me,  and  when  the  boat  came  to  the  land 
near  the  upper  end  of  the  village,  he  came  on  board 
and  spent  an  hour  with  us.  "While  we  were  lying  here, 
our  friends,  the  American  missionaries,  who  were  lying 
near  us,  had  a difficulty  with  their  servant,  who  was 
an  impertinent  scoundrel,  and  whom  it  became  necessary 
for  them  to  discharge.  The  governor  begged  hard  to  be 


VIRTUE  OF  A FIRMAN. 


181 


allowed  to  thrash  him  into  respectability,  but  to  this,  of 
course,  our  friends  would  not  consent.  I have  seldom 
seen  a more  disappointed  man  than  was  Suleiman,  after 
sitting  for  an  hour  and  hearing  the  fellow  complain  of  his 
master,  when  he  was  not  permitted  to  put  on  the  bastinado. 
It  is  a luxury  to  some  of  these  governors  to  thrash  a 
man ; and  it  is  even  related  of  the  Defterdar,  Mohammed 
All’s  son-in  law,  that  he  often  whipped  men  to  death  for 
his  amusement.  But  this  is  not  all.  It  is  also  a luxury  to 
the  men  oftentimes  to  be  whipped,  if  one  may  judge  from 
the  headlong  manner  in  which  they  rush  into  the  neces- 
sity of  being  punished.  “ You  may  give  me  a hundred 
if  these  eggs  are  not  fresh,”  says  the  fellah,  and  the  clerk 
of  the  market  breaks  three  spoiled  eggs  in  succession,  and 
down  goes  the  fellah  and  gets  his  hundred,  with  fifty  to 
boot. 

A roving  letter  of  credit  on  the  Nile  is  a marvelous  as- 
sistant to  one’s  traveling  comforts,  and  at  the  same  time 
affords  much  amusement  in  the  way  of  incident.  I was 
not  a little  amused  that  same  evening  at  Mensheeh  by 
overhearing  a conversation  on  deck  between  Abd-el-Atti 
and  the  sheik  of  the  village.  When  we  left  Cairo,  among 
other  articles  of  boat  furniture  we  were  particular  in 
ordering  a good  cat ; but  we  were  sent  away  with  two 
worthless  kittens,  both  of  which  found  their  way  into  the 
river  within  the  first  week  after  sailing,  and  we  repeated 
the  order  to  pro  vide  another.  It  seemed  that  Abd-el-Atti 
had  directed  one  to  be  brought  down  to  the  boat,  and 
the  sheik,  who  very  naturally  didn’t  want  to  be  bothered 
about  it,  was  protesting  that  there  was  no  such  animal  in 
the  town — no,  not  a kitten,  not  a piece  of  the  skin  or  tail 
of  a feline  animal. 

The  war  of  words  grew  furious,  and  at  length  the 
dragoman  rushed  into  the  cabin  for  the  firman,  and  in- 
finite was  my  amusement  to  see  the  government  seal  ex- 


182 


DOLCE  FAR  NIENTE. 


hibited,  and  condign  j^unisliment  threatened  if  the  cat 
were  not  forthcoming.  It  had  the  desired  effect,  and  the 
sheik  instantly  and  silently  departed,  and  an  hour  later  a 
row  and  general  outcry  on  deck  called  me  out  to  see  five 
cats,  black,  white,  and  yellow,  each  led  by  a string,  and 
all  now  tangled  in  an  inextricable  knot,  fighting,  spitting, 
and  uttering  all  manner  of  Arabic  sounds,  brought  for  us 
to  select  from. 

We  took  three;  and  I may  as  well  pause  to  record 
their  fate.  The  yellow  one  took  a fiying  leap  from  the 
boat  to  the  bank,  about  thirty  feet,  struck  heavily,  and 
fell  back  into  the  water.  I nave  forgotten  what  was  the 
immediate  impulse  which  induced  this  catastrophe,  but 
the  cat  was  worthless.  The  next,  a small  black  kitten, 
met  with  an  unhappy  fate.  We  found  a dead  rat  in  a 
closet,  and,  from  the  appearance  of  Miriam’s  Indian  rub- 
ber overshoes,  we  concluded  he  died  of  caoutchouc.  He 
lay  on  deck  dead,  when  the  kitten  caught  sight  of  him, 
and  made  a dash  at  him,  seized  him  by  the  neck,  and 
swung  him  up  and  over  the  rail,  and,  presto  ! rat  and  cat 
fell  overboard  together,  and  we  swept  on,  leavmg  them 
to  their  fate.  The  last  one  was  a furious  wretch,  with 
the  eye  of  an  arch  devil,  and  one  day  in  Nubia  I loosened 
the  rope  by  which  he  had  been  tied,  and  gave  him  a 
chance  to  run.  The  last  I saw  of  him  he  was  crossing  the 
desert  twenty  miles  below  Abou  Simbal. 

I have  said  but  little  thus  far  of  our  manner  of  life  on 
the  river,  preferring  rather  that  it  should  be  guessed  at 
from  what  I might  write.  But  I find  that  nothing  I have 
yet  said  will  convey  any  idea  of  the  perfect  dolce  far 
niente  of  the  Nile  boat.  The  day  is  one  long  dream  of 
delight,  the  night  a paradise  of  beauty.  We  never  weary, 
yet  we  do  nothing.  We  have  books,  but  v/e  do  not  read. 
We  have  paper,  but  not  the  courage  to  write.  If  there 
be  no  wind,  and  the  boat  was  tracking,  we  walked  along 


PIPES  OF  TOBACCO. 


183 


the  shore,  and  shot  whatever  w^e  could  find.  Game  is 
plenty  everyw'here,  for  there  is  almost  no  one  in  Egypt 
to  disturb  it.  If  the  wind  sprang  uj),  a hail  from  the  boat 
called  us ; we  jumped  on  board,  and  Avere  otf,  perhaps 
for  only  a mile  or  two,  when  Ave  again  tracked  and  again 
Avalked.  We  eschewed  all  manners  of  dress.  It  Avould 
be  impossible  to  say  what  style  or  national  costume  I 
Avore,  unless  it  was  a remote  approximation  to  the  French 
blouse-man  : I Avore  but  a thin  jDair  of  linen  pants  and  a 
blue  shirt — nothing  else,  on  my  Avord — that  is,  Avhen  the 
weather  Avas  warm.  On  my  head,  I always  wore  the  tar- 
bouche.  With  this  dress  it  Avas  not  difficult  to  follow  the 
example  of  the  Arab  sailors  and  jump  overboard  at  any 
moment,  or  AV’ade  in  deep  Avater  after  game.  Sometimes 
I folio Aved  the  men  at  the  tracking-rope,  and  crossed  the 
branches  of  the  river  Avhich  came  doAvn  around  islands, 
Avading  where  it  was  up  to  my  waist ; and,  never  thinking 
of  changing  my  clothes,  I j^ushed  on  through  villages  and 
fields,  to  the  manifest  astonishment  of  the  natives,  Avho 
Avere  not  accustomed  to  see  a HoAvajji  so  nearly  on  a 
parallel  with  themselves  in  dress.  Oftentimes  I was  far 
in  advance  of  the  boat,  and  then,  if  near  a Aullage,  I 
usually  sat  down  in  front  of  a cofiee-shop — which  is  very 
certain  to  occupy  a prominent  point  on  the  river-bank — 
and  AA'hile  the  ghawazee  sang  and  danced,  and  the  natives 
smoked  silently  and  looked  on,  I took  the  first  pipe 
offered  me,  and  curled  my  legs  under  me  as  Avell  as  I was 
able  (I  soon  began  to  haA^e  a knack  that  way),  and  w^aited 
the  coming  of  the  boat,  Avhile  the  fiunes  of  the  beledi 
tobacco  ascended  in  the  still  sunshine.  Hoav  many  pipes 
of  tobacco  I have  smoked  in  such  spots  in  Egypt ! 

At  other  times,  I would  push  the  reis  from  his  place, 
Avhich  is  the  top  of  the  kitchen  on  the  extreme  bow  of 
the  boat,  and,  as  this  was  altogether  the  best  look-out, 
Ferraj  Avould  bring  me  cushions  from  the  dhvan  and  my 


184 


HAJJI  MOHAMMED. 


chibouk,  and,  with  my  gun  close  at  hand,  I smoked,  and 
watched  the  river  and  the  shore.  From  this  jDoint  I have 
gotten  not  a few  shots  at  crocodiles  that  lay  basking  in 
the  sunshine ; and  if  I did  not  hit  them,  it  was  worth 
the  shot  to  see  the  splendid  start  the  fellows  made  as  they 
heard  the  crack  of  the  gun,  and  how  they  leaped  into  the 
air  and  the  water  with  a grand  flourish  of  the  tail  and  a 
tremendous  plash.  Hajji  Mohammed,  the  cook,  was  a 
great  hand  for  a shot  at  a crocodile,  and  never  sent  word 
to  the  cabin  that  he  saw  one,  but  On  the  instant  that 
he  got  sight  of  him,  whether  near  or  far  ofi*,  sent  a bullet 
after  him,  if  it  were  half  a mile.  He  wasted  an  awful 
amount  of  lead  and  powder,  and  got  nothing.  But  not 
seldom  I have  gotten  geese  and  duck  from  my  seat  on 
the  kitchen,  and  Ilalifa,  a capital  swimmer,  stood  always 
ready  to  swim  ofi*  and  bring  them  to  me. 

It  is  vain  on  the  Nile  to  attempt  late  sleeping  in  the 
morning.  I was  usually  on  deck  at  break  of  day,  and 
almost  always  on  shore  before  sunrise.  The  mornings 
are  delicious  beyond  expression,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
dawn  is  only  equaled  by  the  brief  evening  twilight.  But 
early  as  I was  out,  I was  never  ahead  of  my  prince  of 
cooks,  who  sent  me  a cup  of  coffee  the  instant  he  heard 
my  footstep,  and  then  went  to  work  at  breakfast,  which 
he  made  a meal  fit  for  the  most  fastidious  of  tastes  or  ap- 
petites. 

The  twilight  always  found  us  on  deck,  and  there  we 
remained  till  midnight.  There  is  enough  to  see  in  air 
and  sky,  whether  it  be  or  be  not  moonlight.  There  were 
sofas  on  the  cabin-deck,  well-cushioned  and  perfect,  and 
here  we  lay,  looking  up  at  the  stars.  We  talked  little, 
and  when  w'e  did  speak  it  was  mostly  of  the  dear  ones  at 
home,  of  the  pleasure  they  would  have  wdth  us  there — 
never  of  the  glorious  past,  the  fallen  grandeur  of  Egypt, 
the  march  of  history,  the  trampling  feet  of  time.  Of  all 


H A S S A B O . 


185 


those  we  would  think — think — think — till  thought  became 
soul,  and  we  were  bodiless,  and  the  moon  and  stars  looked 
down  on  a silent,  verily  a phantom  boat,  floating  slowly 
along  the  river  of  Egypt,  surrounded  by  the  princes  and 
priests  of  Osirian  days. 

The  blackest  and  the  best-looking  man  on  the  boat  was 
Ilassabo,  the  mestahmil  or  steersman.  One  evening,  I 
was  writing  a letter  at  the  table.  It  was  late,  all  was 
silent  outside,  and  I supposed  every  one  was  sleeping, 
when  I was  startled  by  the  abrupt  entrance,  rather  say 
rush,  into  the  cabin  of  Hassabo,  supported  on  either  side 
by  Ferraj  and  Hassan,  the  two  cabin  servants.  Black 
as  he  ordinarily  is,  Hassabo  was  now  blue  with  fright  or 
pain,  I could  not  tell  which.  Blood  was  running  from  his 
Anger,  which  Hassan  and  Ferraj  held  in  their  hands, 
grasping  it  as  if  they  thought  it  would  get  away  from 
them.  From  something  that  he  muttered  about  fish,  I 
understood  that  he  had  run  a fish-hook  through  his  finger, 
and  I proceeded  to  wash  the  wound  and  put  on  some 
common  plaster.  In  the  midst  of  this,  Hassabo,  who  was 
by  far  the  most  pious  Mussulman  on  the  boat,  was  con- 
stantly muttering,  “ Allah  ! Allah !”  and  trembling  and 
growing  weaker,  until  suddenly  he  turned  from  me  with 
a bolt  toward  the  door,  which  was  open,  and  threw  the 
contents  of  his  stomach  on  the  deck.  Unfortunately  a 
deck  plank  was  up,  and,  as  he  rushed  out,  he  tripped  in 
the  hole  thus  left  and  went  down  on  deck  with  a tre- 
mendous fall  just  as  he  heaved  a second  time  ; and  then 
the  poor  fellow  lay  frightened  and  badly  hurt  in  the 
scuppers.  I soon  learned  the  cause  of  his  fright,  for  I 
saw  that  the  wound  was  a trifle.  Hajji  Mohammed,  the' 
cook,  had  invited  Hassabo  to  an  extra  good  supper,  and 
the  poor  fellow,  glad  as  they  all  are  of  a chance  to  get 
any  thing  better  than  sour  bread  to  eat,  had  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  overfed  himself  at  the  kitchen  with  sundry 


18G 


NILE  FISHING. 


relics  of  fowls  and  mutton.  Now  Hassabo  was  rigid  in 
bis  observances,  and  always  washed  before  and  after  eat- 
ing, so  that  when  he  had  finished  his  supper  he  stepped 
into  the  small  boat,  which  lay  alongside,  to  wash,  and,  as 
he  dipped  his  hands  in  the  water,  a huge  fish  seized  his 
finger.  Ilinc  Him  lachrymm.  The  fi'ight  and  the  over- 
feeding were  too  much  for  him. 

I had  fishing-tackle  for  the  river  ready  on  deck  at  all 
times,  but  had  as  yet  hooked  nothing,  having  been  un- 
able to  get  any  idea  from  books  or  persons  of  the  habits 
of  Nile  fish.  The  natives  take  them  in  a way  peculiar  to 
the  river.  They  have  a rope,  two  hundred  feet  long, 
armed  with  large  hooks  at  every  few  inches,  which  is 
sunk  by  weights,  and  dragged  up  or  do’wn  the  river.  By 
chance  they  sometimes  hook  a large  fish  in  this  way,  and 
only  by  chance. 

This  accident  of  Hassabo’s  gave  me  a clew  to  the  ways 
of  at  least  one  species  of  fish,  and  in  ten  minutes  I was 
diligently  trolling  for  him,  and  in  ten  more  I had  him. 
He  struck  my  hook  as  a blue-fish  would  strike,  from  be- 
low, with  a sharp,  swift  blow,  turning  on  his  tail  as  he 
took  hold,  and  carrying  away  my  line  wfith  him,  which  I 
gave  him  for  six  fathoms  before  I struck  him.  I needed 
not  to  wait,  as  it  afterward  appeared.  lie  had  swallowed 
the  hook  instantly.  I had  him  fast,  but  that  was  very 
little  indeed  toward  getting  him  into  the  boat.  He  was 
a strong  swimmer,  and  tried  my  tackle  severely ; but  it 
had  held  heavier  fish  than  he  in  American  Avaters,  and 
landed  them,  too,  and  I did  not  give  him  up  Avhen  he  had 
fifty  fathoms  of  line  out,  and  Avas  pulling  straight  doAvn 
the  river.  Jumping  mto  the  small  boat,  I cast  her  loose 
myself  and  drifted  down  stream,  helped  not  a little  by  his 
]3ulling.  It  AA^as  nearly  an  hour  before  I killed  him,  and 
during  that  time  I had  never  for  an  instant  thought  of 
AA^here  I AA^as  or  whither  I Avas  drifting.  And  noAv  I found 


A LONG  PULL. 


187 


myself  alone  on  the  Kile,  the  night  dark,  the  moon  not 
yet  risen,  my  boat  four  miles  away,  a strong  current 
against  me,  and  an  uncommonly  lively  fish  raising  the 
devil  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  I had  no  time  for  con- 
sideration. Every  minute  was  a loss,  and  carried  me 
further  away.  I sat  down  to  the  oars.  I remembered 
all  the  heavy  pulling  I had  done  in  my  life  as  I leaned  to 
those  clumsy  sticks  which  they  called  oars,  any  one  of 
which  will  outweigh  two  long  boat  sweeps.  I thought 
especially  of  two  scenes  in  my  past  life  ; one  when  I rowed 
against  a fierce  gale  off  the  north  point  of  Block  Island, 
and  the  other  when,  with  Miriam  wrapped  up  in  oil- 
clothes  and  India-rubber,  seated  in  the  stern  of  my  boat, 
I pulled  up  from  the  ferry-stairs  at  Niagara  to  the  foot  of 
the  American  Fall,  and  across  to  the  milk-white  basin  of 
the  Horseshoe.  But  in  neither  of  these  instances,  said  I 
to  myself,  did  I hear  these  hungry  jackals  that  are  bark- 
ing on  the  shore  to-night.  Then  I sang,  and  I made  the 
Egyptian  darkness  ring  to  Yankee  songs,  until  it  occurred 
to  me  that  I was  inviting  the  Ababdee  scoundrels,  who 
are  all  along  that  part  of  the  river,  and  always  awake 
at  night,  's^^atching  for  chances  to  rob  passers-by  on  the 
water ; and  so  I kept  myself  quiet,  and  pulled  steadily, 
and  counted  stars. 

There  were  never  half  so  many  visible  to  my  eye  in  the 
heavens.  That  night,  and  every  clear  night  since  I have 
been  in  Egypt,  I have  seen  eleven  stars  in  the  constella- 
tion of  the  Pleiades,  and  one  night  I saw  twelve  dis- 
tinctly. But  I did  not  pause  long  to  count  stars.  I 
looked  northward  and  pulled  southward  with  a will. 
In  an  hour  I saw  the  red  light  which  we  always  carried  at 
the  end  of  the  high  yard,  and  in  half  an  hour  more  I 
was  pretty  much  used  up,  alongside  the  boat,  where 
every  one  was  sound  asleep.  No  one  knew  of  my 


188 


A DEVIL. 


lonesome  adventure  until  they  saw  the  fish  lying  on  deck 
the  next  morning. 

Administering  to  the  diseases  of  the  crew  became  an 
every-day  matter.  Hajji  Hassan,  the  cook’s  mate,  a tall, 
bony  Arab,  had  never  before  been  in  the  upper  country, 
and  the  sun  efiectually  skinned  his  face,  so  that  he  was  as 
miserable  an  object  in  appearance  as  one  wall  meet  in  a 
year,  and,  I have  no  doubt,  was  equally  miserable  in  feel- 
ing. His  head,  bones,  back,  all  parts  of  him,  and  a num- 
ber of  other  parts,  that  he  imagined  he  had,  ached 
unendurably,  as  well  they  might.  I ai^plied  cooling 
lotions  (I  believe  that  is  the  phrase),  and  the  next  morn- 
ing he  was  much  better,  only  needing  a mild  dose  of  med- 
icine to  complete  the  cure.  My  stock  of  drugs  was  small, 
for  we  eschew  the  use  of  them  ; a Seidlitz  powder  would 
fit  the  case  tolerably  well,  and  I gave  him  one,  explaining 
before  he  took  it  the  effervescing  character  of  it.  But  he 
did  not  understand  it.  And  as  he  held  one  glass  in  his 
hand,  while  I poured  the  acid  in  from  the  other,  telling  him 
to  drink  quick,  he  raised  it  to  his  lips,  but  the  foam  touched 
his  nose,  and  he  was  astounded  beyond  measure.  He 
dropped  the  glass  as  if  he  were  shot,  cried  out,  Efrit ! 
Efrit  f — “A  devil ! a devil !”  and  no  persuasion  could  in- 
duce him  to  try  another.  I substituted  the  half  of  one 
without  the  acid,  which  answered  all  the  purpose. 

That  same  evening  I shot,  for  the  first  time,  a bird  that 
the  Arabs  consider  almost  sacred.  It  is  much  like  our 
curlew,  in  size,  shaj^e,  and  habit ; but  its  peculiarity  is 
that  it  utters  a note  that  the  Arab  understands  to  be  a 
distinct  address  to  God : El  mouXk  illak^  La  shareelc 
illah — “ The  universe  is  thine  ; thou  hast  no  partner  !” 
This  cry  is  remarkably  distinct  and  musical,  and  we  heard 
it  all  the  evening,  in  the  twilight,  across  a waste  of  halfeh 
grass,  which  marked  the  position  of  a forgotten  city.  I 
know  no  picture  on  all  the  earth’s  surface  more  striking 


THE  CURLEW. 


189 


than  that  of  this  bird,  standing  erect,  in  the  gloaming,  on 
a mound  that  covered  the  palace  of  a long-forgotten  prince, 
and  uttering,  on  the  desert  wind,  that  simple  and  sublime 
tribute  of  praise  to  Him  who  alone  knew  the  history  of 
the  dead  that  lay  below. 


i7. 

When  on  shore,  two  days  after  passing  Girgeh,  in  the 
morning  I came  on  the  ruins  of  a village  which  was  evi- 
dently Arab,  and  whose  destruction  was  manifestly  vio- 
lent. Such  village  scenes  are  not  uncommon  in  this 
miserable  land.  Not  infrequently  the  inhabitants  of  one 
of  these  mud  heaps — they  can  hardly  be  called  any  thing 
else — rebel  against  the  authority  of  the  viceroy.  More 
foolish  or  mad  conduct  could  not  be  imagined.  Entirely 
destitute  of  arms,  they  have  no  hope  of  success,  and  their 
fate  is  inevitable  ; yet  village  after  village,  galled  by  the 
enormous  loads  of  taxes  imposed  on  them,  resists  and  is 
destroyed,  and  such  ruins  as  this  mark  their  sad  history. 

I asked  an  old  man,  who  was  at  work  near  the  ruin, 
who  destroyed  this  place,  and  when  ? He  answered, 
“ Ibrahim  Pasha,  two  years  ago.’’  Now  Ibrahim  Pasha 
rendered  his  account  to  an  avenging  God  some  eight  or 
more  years  ago,  and  the  old  man  was,  of  course,  mistaken, 
in  his  date  or  the  person.  Ibrahim  Pasha  had  a way  of  de- 
stroying villages,  a sort  of  passion  that  way,  and  I supposed 
it  possible  that  the  people  might  attribute  every  thing 
of  the  kind  to  him  as  a sort  of  matter  of  course.  There 
is  a town  not  far  from  New  York  where,  it  is  said,  on 
good  authority,  that  the  people  at  the  last  presidential 
election  supposed  they  were  voting  for  General  Jackson, 


IBRAHIM  PASHA. 


191 


and  I fancied  this  was  much  the  same  way.  I learned 
afterward  that  it  was  the  date  only  that  was  wrong.  This 
was  one  of  the  monuments  of  the  terrible  Ibrahim,  and 
yet  I have  no  doubt  the  verdict  of  impartial  history  will 
be  that  the  same  Ibrahim  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  of 
this  age.  But  I contrasted  this  ruined  village,  these  de- 
serted houses,  fallen  roofs,  burned  thatches  of  doura,  and 
silent  streets,  with  the  gorgeous  tomb  in  which  he  lies  at 
Cairo,  surpassing  in  its  splendor  of  marble  and  gold  any 
work  of  modern  art  that  I have  seen  or  expect  to  see ; 
and  I felt — who  could  avoid  it  ? — a shudder  at  the  thought 
of  the  meeting  beyond  the  grave  of  the  spoiler  and  the 
slain ! 

As  I was  walking  by  the  men  on  the  shore,  one  morn- 
ing, shortly  before  reaching  Gheneh,  an  incident  occurred 
which,  while  it  illustrates  the  brutal  character  of  an  Arab 
who  has  a little  power,  serves  also  to  introduce  more  par- 
ticularly than  heretofore  to  the  reader’s  notice,  Reis  Has- 
sanein,  as  stupid  and  poor  a specimen  of  a Nile  captain  as 
could  well  be  found  on  the  river. 

I do  not  yet  know  what  is  the  process  of  promotion  on 
the  river,  or  what  stages  a man  should  go  through  to  be- 
come captain  or  commander  of  a dahabeeh.  This  much  I 
know,  that  there  are  fourteen  men  on  our  boat,  any  one 
of  whom  is  more  competent  for  the  office  than  the  man 
who  fills  it,  and  we  have  been  often  tempted  to  hand  him 
over  to  a governor,  and  take  another  in  his  place.  ■ 

Some  difficulty  occurred  at  the  tow-rope.  I do  not 
know  the  nature  of  it ; the  first  that  I saw  of  it  was 
when  Hassabo,  the  steersman,  by  the  direction  of  the  reis, 
turned  the  boat  to  the  land  so  as  to  allow  the  latter  to  jump 
on  shore,  with  a nabote,  a large  club,  in  his  hand,  where- 
with to  make  a rush  on  the  row  of  men  who  were  hauling 
on  the  tow-rope,  and  strike  two  of  them,  bringing  one  to 
the  ground.  Had  this  one  been  any  other  man,  I do  not 


192 


ABD-EL-KADER  BEY. 


know  that  my  sympathies  would  have  been  so  strongly  ex- 
cited, but  it  was  Mohammed  Hassan,  who  was  altogether 
the  best  man  on  the  boat,  and  the  regular  attendant  of 
the  ladies  when  they  walked  on  the  shore. 

At  first  I thought  his  knee-pan  broken,  and  I had  a 
strong  notion  of  administering  summary  punishment  on 
the  reis,  then  and  there.  He  was  himself  much  fright- 
ened, and  on  my  advancing  to  the  scene  he  retired,  leav- 
ing Mohammed  to  me.  I had  him  removed  to  the  boat, 
where  his  wound  vras  attended  to,  and  it  fortunately 
proved  to  be  but  a bad  bruise.  Nevertheless,  the  reis 
was  left  to  understand  that  on  our  arrival  at  Gheneh,  we 
should  hand  him  over  to  the  governor,  to  determine 
whether  it  was  proper  for  him  to  beat  the  men  in  that 
way ; and  in  the  mean  time  he  was  forbidden  to  punish 
them  with  any  similar  weapons,  under  penalty  of  a broken 
head  himself  This  filled  to  overflowing  the  cup  of  Reis 
Hassanein’s  afflictions,  and  thereafter  he  was  a milder 
and  a better  man. 

We  reached  Gheneh  in  the  afternoon,  and  I proceeded 
immediately  to  pay  my  respects  to  Abd-el-Kader  Bey, 
the  Governor  of  Upper  Egypt,  and  next  in  rank  to  Latif 
Pasha,  to  v hom  I had  letters. 

I have  met  many  men  of  high  rank  in  Egypt,  and  have 
been  fortunate  in  making  the  acquaintance  of  several 
of  the  most  distinguished  offlcers  of  the  viceroy,  but 
I have  seen  no  one  with  whom  I was  so  well  pleased, 
or  whose  acquaintance  I was  so  glad  to  have  made.  The 
letters  would  not  have  been  necessary.  I found  an  ac- 
complished gentleman — a Turk,  indeed,  but  affable,  polite, 
and  dignified ; a pleasant  man  in  conversation,  a good 
soldier,  and  a grateful  protege  of  Mohammed  Ali,  whose 
name  he  almost  revered. 

I found  him  in  his  audience-room,  a large  chamber, 
forty  feet  by  forty,  with  a high  ceiling  and  a stone  floor. 


THE  DLWAN. 


193 


Across  the  upper  end  of  the  room  was  a diwan,  covered 
with  rich  cusliions,  and  this  also  extended  down  one  side; 
while  opposite  was  a row  of  chaws,  of  eastern  pattern, 
heavily  gilded.  He  led  me  to  a seat  on  his  left,  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  room,  and  gave  me  a chibouk  of  magni- 
ficent pattern.  The  stick  was  carved  ebony,  and  the  am- 
ber mouth-piece  was  loaded  with  diamonds.  Four  young 
Xubian  slaves,  handsome  in  countenance  and  elegantly 
dressed  in  the  Xizam  dress,  brought  coffee  and  sherbet, 
and  then  retired,  one  standing  on  each  corner  of  the  car- 
pet to  await  further  orders.  They  were  manifestly  favor- 
ites, and  a fifth,  who  had  been  absent  on  some  errand, 
entered  while  the  governor  was  talking,  and  walking  di- 
rectly up  to  him,  took  his  hand,  kissed  it  and  pressed  it  to 
liis  forehead,  and  retired  to  the  corner  of  the  room. 

Persian  carpets  covered  about  one-fourth  of  the  room, 
across  the  upper  end,  and  the  next  fourth  was  covered 
with  Nubian  mats,  the  remainder  being  bare.  Ho  one 
stepped  on  the  mats  with  slippers  on  his  feet,  but  every 
one  who  approached  the  governor  left  his  slippers  on  the 
stone  floor,  and  advanced  over  the  mats  as  far  as  the  edge 
of  the  carpet,  but  no  further  unless  the  governor  gave 
leave.  My  visit  did  not  interrupt  the  usual  course  of 
business,  but  he  continued  to  affix  his  seal  to  papers  that 
were  presented,  and  to  hear  petitions  and  administer  just- 
ice as  usual.  He  turned  from  me  with  a polite  excuse 
each  time,  completed  his  business  rapidly,  and  resumed 
the  conversation,  which  was  chiefly  on  political  subjects, 
with  all  of  which  he  was  more  familiar  than  any  man  I 
have  met  in  Eg}^t. 

One  poor  wretch  who  had  deserted  from  thO  army  was 
brought  before  him  by  his  soldiers,  and  he  turned  to  look 
at  him.  There  was  a world  in  his  eye,  but  he  did  not 
give  the  order  then.  If  the  power  of  life  and  death  had 
not  been  taken  from  the  governors  by  recent  changes,  I 

9 


194 


WAS  IT  FANCY? 


have  little  doubt  that  I should  then  and  tliere  have  heard 
— what  I have  so  often,  and  always  with  deep  emotion, 
heard  in  America — the  sentence  of  death  passed  on  him. 
The  man  held  up  a bleeding  hand,  from  ’which  he  had 
lately  cut  two  lingers,  hoping  thereby  to  render  himself 
unfit  for  military  service.  I believe  I have  already  re- 
marked that  this  is  so  much  the  custom  in  Egypt,  that 
nearly  every  man  has  lost  a finger  or  an  eye.  But  this 
did  not  avail  him  now,  and  he  was  remanded  to  await  ex- 
amination. On  my  return  down  the  river  I passed  two 
days  at  Gheneh,  and  of  the  pleasant  friendship  which  I 
then  established  with  Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  and  of  the  favors 
he  did  me,  I shall  have  occasion  to  speak  fully  at  another 
time.  lie  now  forwarded  letters  to  every  inferior  gov- 
ernor on  the  river,  informing  them  of  my  progress,  and 
gave  me  copies  to  deliver  in  case  of  needing  any  assist- 
ance, and  so  I left  Gheneh  and  approached  Thebes. 

That  night  the  wind  wailed  around  us,  and  December 
voices  came  flying  on  it.  The  starry  sky  was  like  the 
skies  of  our  home-land,  but  the  air  -was  pure,  soft,  and 
delicious  to  the  cheek,  though  the  blast  was  terrible. 
Once  there  came  on  it,  from  down  the  river,  a long,  wild 
cry — a shriek  of  women  in  agony.  It  was  the  death-cry 
of  some  j^oor  wretches  whose  boat  went  down  in  the 
tempest.  Our  men  took  the  small  boat  and  went  to  their 
rescue,  but  in  vain.  They  found  the  floating  evidences 
of  a lost  boat,  but  nothing  more. 

And  in  the  night  I heard  the  sounds  of  a distant  land 
come  to  me  distinctly  on  the  gale.  You  may  laugh  at 
me;  you  may  say  I write  it  because  others  have  said 
and  written  the  same ; you  may  tell  me  I dreamed  it.  I 
care  not  what  you  say,  but  I know  that  on  that  stormy 
Saturday  night  I heard  the  church  bells  of  my  old  home 
sounding  over  the  tossing  waves  of  the  Nile.  Yes,  I 
heard  them.  I,  too,  laughed  when  I read  in  the  books 


WAS  IT  FACT? 


195 


of  travels  of  others  that  they  heard  such  sounds  on  the 
desert,  but  I did  not  laugh  now,  for  I have  learned  the 
truth  of  those  sounds  right  well. 

I was  sitting  just  here  where  I now  sit,  writing  a letter 
home,  to  be  mailed  when  we  should  reach  Luxor.  Pro- 
found silence  for  a moment  rested  on  every  thing.  There 
was  a lull  in  the  wind.  The  flow  of  the  river  was  swift 
and  noiseless.  Miriam  was  sleeping.  All  the  others  on 
the  boat  were  sleeping.  It  was  midnight,  I say  ; but  far 
away,  in  that  pleasant  land  that  I call  home,  it  was  just 
sunset,  and  the  hour  of  prayer.  I leaned  my  head  for- 
Avard  on  my  hands  a moment,  and  perhaps — I Avill  not 
say  it  Avas  so,  but  perhaps — perhaps  there  were  some 
tears  in  my  eyes ; for  on  a Avinter  evening  like  this,  in  the 
long-gone  years,  I saAV  the  light  of  life  fade  out  of  eyes 
that  I loved,  and  deep  gloom  take  its  place  forever,  and 
so,  perhaps  I wept  as  I remembered  it — and  then  I heard 
those  bells.  They  sounded  sweetly — clearly,  and  I sprang 
to  the  door  of  the  cabin,  and  out  into  the  starry  night, 
and  leaned  my  head  forAvard  to  listen  to  the  melody. 

Soft,  soft  and  SAveet  they  came  over  the  SAvift  river ; 
clear,  rich,  and  full.  There  could  be  no  mistaking  them. 
I might  have  doubted,  but  the  tones  Avere  all  the  same. 
There  AA^as  the  Presbyterian  bell,  deep,  stern,  and  solemn 
in  every  stroke ; the  Episcopal  church  bell,  more  musical 
and  silvery ; the  old  Scotch  church  bell,  that  Avas  forever 
chanting  the  Psalm,  “ They  that  go  doAvn  to  the  sea  in 
ships” — all  clear  and  loud ; and  then  the  Avind  arose,  and 
they  Avent  away  over  the  desert,  and  I heard  them  far  ofi*, 
and  then  no  longer. 

There  Avas  an  hour  Avhen,  before  I left  America,  I stood 
with  a friend — the  best  friend  of  all  my  years  of  life,  the 
companion  of  boyhood,  youth,  and  mature  years — and 
talked  AAuth  him  of  the  same  subject. 

He  had  been  in  Egypt,  and  had  once  heard  that  same 


196 


THE  OLD  FAMILIAR  SOUNDS. 


sound,  and  with  all  the  calm  thoughtfulness  of  his  nature, 
he  believed  that  the  bells  did  verily  sound  in  his  ears 
with  their  own  metallic  notes.  We  were  speaking  then 
of  Eothen,  and  the  same  story  as  related  by  its  author,  in 
his  own  inimitable  style ; but  I had  little  faith  then  in  my 
friend  or  in  Eothen.  I have  more  now.  You  may  tell 
me  it  was  the  wailing  over  a dead  man  in  a village  along 
the  bank,  or  you  may  say  that  it  was  a creaking  sakea,  or 
a palm-tree  moaning  in  the  wind,  or  whatsoever  you 
please  to  believe  it.  I am  content  to  know  that  my  ears 
heard  the  church  bells,  and  since  my  feet  might  not  tread 
the  accustomed  path,  my  heart  went  there  with  those 
that  trod  it,  and  the  old  altar  had  a worshiper  there  that 
none  knew  who  surrounded  it  that  evening,  but  whose 
worship  was  sincere  and  fervent,  though  the  waters  of  the 
Nile  were  under  him,  and  the  skies  of  Egypt,  starry  and 
clear,  over  his  head. 


)8. 


Jo  JLobe  f|  SiJjh 


It  was  one  of  those  glorious  nights  of  which  I have 
spoken,  such  as  no  land  knows  but  Egypt,  and  no  river 
but  the  Nile.  Strangest  of  all  things,  in  the  economy  of 
nature,  is  this  waste  of  glory  on  the  degraded  race  that 
are  unable  to  enjoy  it^  or  to  thank  God  for  it.  Night 
after  night,  for  a thousand  years,  the  undimmed  moon 
and  stars  have  seen  themselves  reflected  in  the  river, 
have  silvered  the  hills  and  mellowed  the  otherwise  hag- 
gard face  of  nature ; and  no  one  has  thought  of  its  ex- 
quisite beauty,  its  holy  splendor,  except,  perhajDs,  some 
lonely  traveler  who  beheld  in  it  the  melancholy  memorial 
of  ancient  grandeur,  or  a dying  Bedouin,  who  looked 
longingly  up  to  the  deep  beyond,  and  wondered  whether 
he  should  hold  a star  in  his  hand  when  he  should  have 
shaken  off  his  clay  bonds. 

I was  seated  on  deck  alone,  for  all  the  rest  of  the  party 
were  sleeping,  and  I was  revolving  in  my  mind  all  the 
traditions  and  legends  of  the  stars  that  I had  heard  in 
former  years. 

Pleasantest  of  them  was  that  which  I somewhere  read 
or  heard  long  ago,  that  some  of  the  wandering  tribes  be- 
lieve  that  the  stars  are  torches,  held  in  the  hands  of  the 
beloved  dead,  who  light  with  soft  rays  of  love  the  path- 
way of  the  living  over  the  desert  hills  of  life.  And 


198 


THE  YOUNG  SHEIK. 


thereby  hangs  a story  which  in  long  gone  years  I heard 
or  read,  and  which  I now  believe  must  have  had  some 
foundation  in  truth,  so  exactly  are  all  the  particulars  in 
accordance  with  the  truth  of  scene  and  character. 

In  a valley  among  the  hills  of  the  Arabian  desert, 
where  a spring  of  water  kept  living  a few  palms  to  re- 
lieve the  otherwise  barren  aspect  of  the  visible  world, 
lived  a small  family  or  tribe  of  Bedouins,  consisting  of  a 
hundred  persons  or  thereabouts,  possessing  ten  or  a 
dozen  black  tents,  and  as  many  horses  and  camels  as 
men.  From  this  point  they  made  their  excursions  over 
the  plains,  and  sometimes  returned  with  strange  goods 
for  such  a place.  Costly  silks,  rare  and  splendid  jewels, 
the  richest  cashmeres,  were  common  articles  in  their 
household  furniture ; and  he  who  sa^v  the  outer  appear- 
ance of  the  dark  camel’s  hair  cloth,  which  kept  the  sun 
off  from  their  heads,  w^ould  never  have  dreamed  of  the 
magnificence  and  elegance  within  those  low  huts.  We 
will  not  pause  to  ask  whence  these  treasures  came. 

There  was  in  this  tribe  a young  man  of  higher  mental 
structure  than  his  companions,  who  was  the  son  of  a 
sheik  dead  long  before,  and  who  had  been  educated  in 
the  City  of  Victory.  Education,  by-the-by,  in  this  part 
of  the  world  has  a peculiar  meaning.  It  does  not  consist 
in  the  learning  that  is  hidden  in  books,  in  amassing  stores 
from  the  brains  of  the  dead  sages,  m drawing  curious 
lines  on  paper,  and  proving  strange  and  incredible  thuigs 
to  be  true  by  mathematical  calculations.  It  is  little  more 
than  teaching  the  boy  to  read  and  write  the  language  of 
the  Koran,  and  then  teaching  him  the  Koran  so  well 
that  he  will  not  need  to  read  it  to  be  able  to  quote  any 
chapter  or  verse.  And,  besides  the  Koran,  there  are 
iiosts  of  unwritten  traditions  in  the  Mohammedan  re- 
ligion handed  down  from  lip  to  lip,  which  are  always 
part  of  the  finishing  accomplishments.  In  all  these  the 


THE  OLD  THIRST. 


199 


young  Sheik  Houssein  was  learned,  but  he  was  not  satis- 
fied with  these.  He  knew  nothing  of  that  hackneyed 
story — hackneyed  by  the  school-boys  and  school-girls  of 
ancient  Rome,  and  ever  since — of  an  indescribable  long- 
ing after  “ the  far-off  unattained  and  dim but  he  felt 
within  him  a thirst  that  no  fountain  of  Arabia  could 
allay — a thirst  that  many  have  felt,  and  none  have 
quenched  until  their  lips  were  wet  with  the  waters  of 
the  river  of  the  throne ! His  world  was  a small  one, 
and  he  had  searched  it  through.  From  the  Nile  to  the 
Euphrates,  from  Akaba  to  the  Bosphorus,  in  Mecca,  and 
in  Jerusalem,  he  had  looked  with  earnest  eyes,  had 
sought  with  feverish  lips,  and  sought  in  vain. 

Do  not  expect  me  to  describe  what  it  was  that  he 
sought.  He  did  not  know ; how  should  I ? He  but 
knew  that  his  life  was  not  all  that  it  should  be ; that  he 
had  capabilities  beyond  the  narrow  boundary  of  a Be- 
douin’s wanderings ; that  there  Avas  something  more  in 
existence  than  the  fray  of  the  desert,  the  midnight  de- 
scent on  the  unarmed  village,  the  dastardly  robbing  of 
the  peaceful  caravan ; something  more  in  death  than  the 
sensual  paradise  of  the  Prophet,  and  the  traditions  of  his 
fathers. 

There  is  a moment,  in  every  man’s  existence,  on  Avhich 
turns  his  future  destiny.  There  are  many  such  moments ; 
for  oftentimes  life  hangs  on  a thread,  and  if  the  thread  is 
not  cut  it  requires  but  a touch  to  change  the  whole  di- 
rection of  the  future.  But  in  every  man’s  life  there  is  at 
least  one,  and  in  his  it  occurred  thus  : 

It  was  not  often  in  those  days  that  travelers  crossed 
the  great  desert.  Few  Europeans  came  to  Egypt,  and 
fewer  still  Avent  on  to  Sinai.  But  there  Avas  a time  Avhen 
Houssein  Avas  called  to  Cairo  to  meet  a noble  party  of 
Avestern  travelers,  a gentleman  and  two  ladies,  ^y\\o  Avere 
making  a pilgrimage  to  Sinai  and  the  Holy  Land,  and 


200 


A WILD  LOVE. 


who  wished  his  protection  in  crossing  the  desert.  He 
saw  but  the  gentleman,  and  readily  engaged  to  perform 
the  desired  service. 

It  was  not  till  the  party  had  left  the  Birket-el-Haj 
that  he  met  them,  where  they  were  encamped,  by  moon- 
light, on  the  sand  that  stretches  away  to  Suez.  As  he 
sprang  from  his  mare,  before  the  tent-door,  he  was 
startled  by  such  a vision  as  he  had  never  seen  before, 
but  thought  he  had  dreamed  of  in  his  waking  dreams. 

She  was  slight,  fair,  and,  in  the  moonlight,  pale  as  a 
creature  of  dreams.  Was  this  one  of  the  houris  of  his 
fabled  paradise  ? No ; he  rejected  the  thought  if  it  rose. 
There  was  no  spot  in  all  the  heaven  of  Mohammed  fit  for 
an  angel  like  this.  Away,  like  the  sand  on  the  whirl- 
wind, like  the  clouds  before  the  sun,  like  the  stars  at  day- 
break— away  swept  all  his  faith  in  Islam,  and,  in  an 
instant,  the  Sheik  Houssein  was  an  idolater,  worshiping, 
as  a thousand  greater  than  he  have  done,  the  beauty  of 
a 'woman.  Perhaps  he  might  have  quenched  his  thirst 
for  the  unknown  at  some  other  fountain,  but  tliis  w^as 
enough  now.  He  had  found  that  wherewith  to  fill  the 
void,  and  he  was  content. 

Love  was  a new  emotion,  a sensation  he  had  never  be- 
fore experienced,  and  it  satisfied  him.  Did  she  love 
him  ? That  was  a question  which  never  occurred  to  him. 
What  did  he  care  for  that  ? He  'svas  not  seeking  to  be 
loved.  He  was  looking  for  employment  for  his  own  soul, 
and  he  had  found  it,  and  that  was  enough. 

The  tradition  goes  on  to  describe  his  long  crossing  of  the 
desert.  How  he  lingered  among  the  hills  of  Sinai ; how 
he  led  them  by  Akaba  and  Petra,  and  detained  them 
many  weeks  in  the  City  of  Rock ; how  the  fair  English 
girl  faded  slowly  away,  for  she  was  dying  Vv-hen  she  came 
to  Egypt ; and  how,  weary,  well-nigh  dead,  he  carried 
her  to  the  Holy  City,  and  pitched  their  tents  by  the^ 


THE  END  OF  ALL. 


201 


mountain  of  the  Ascension.  And  all  this  time  he  watched 
over  her  with  the  zealous  care  of  a father  or  a brother, 
and  the  quick  heart  of  the  lady  saw  it  and  understood  it 
all.  And  sometimes  he  would  try,  in  broken  words,  to 
tell  her  of  his  old  belief  and  his  ideas  of  immortality,  and 
she  would  read  in  his  hearing  sublime  promises  and  glo- 
rious hopes  that  were  in  a language  he  knew  nothing  of, 
but  w^hich  he  half  understood  from  her  uplifted  eye  and 
countenance. 

How  he  worshiped  that  matchless  eye ! He  worshiped 
nothing  else,  on  earth  or  in  heaven. 

It  was  noon  of  night  under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
and  in  a white  tent  close  by  the  hill  on  which  the  last 
footsteps  of  the  ascending  Lord  left  their  hallowing 
touch,  an  English  girl  was  waiting  his  bidding  to  follow 
him. 

Outside  the  tent,  j>rone  on  the  ground,  with  eyes  fixed 
on  the  everlasting  stars,  lay  a group  of  Bedouins,  and 
apart  from  them  a little  way  their  chief,  silent,  motion- 
less— to  all  that  was  earthly,  dead.  A low  voice  within 
the  tent  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night,  but  he  did  not 
move.  A voice  was  uttering  again  those  words,  of  which 
the  sound  had  become  familiar  to  him  already,  the  Chris- 
tian’s prayer. 

“ Sheik  Houssein !” 

He  sprang  to  his  feet.  It  was  her  voice,  faint,  low,  but 
silvery.  The  tent-door  -was  thrust  aside,  and  as  a hand 
motioned  to  him  to  enter  he  obeyed. 

She  lay  on  the  cushions,  her  head  lifted  somewhat  from 
the  pillow  by  the  arms  of  her  sister ; her  brother,  who 
spoke  the  language  of  the  desert  well,  stood  by  her 
as  the  young  sheik  approached.  His  coofea  was  gathered 
around  his  head ; only  his  dark  eye,  flashing  gloriously, 
was  visible.  She  looked  up  into  it  and  whispered;  he 
half  understood  her  before  the  words  came  through  her 

9^ 


202 


ONE  MORE  STAR. 


brother’s  lips,  as  she  told  him  the  story  of  Calvary  and 
Christ,  and  the  cloud  that  received  the  King  and  Saviour 
returning  to  his  throne. 

It  were  vain  to  say  he  understood  all  this.  He  only 
knew  that  she  was  telling  him  of  her  hope  ere  long  to  be 
above  him,  above  the  world,  above  the  sky ; and  his  act- 
ive but  bewildered  mind  inwrought  all  this  with  his 
ancient  traditions,  and  having  long  ago  rejected  the 
creed  that  did  not  teach  him  that  she  was  immortal,  as 
he  fell  back  on  the  idea  that  the  immortals  had  somewhat 
to  do  with  the  stars,  and  as  he  lay  down  on  the  ground, 
close  by  the  side  of  the  tent,  listening  for  every  sound 
from  within,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  zenith  and  watched 
the  passing  of  the  hosts  of  the  night  until  she  died. 
There  was  a rustling  of  garments,  a voice  of  inex- 
pressible sweetness  suddenly  silent,  a low,  soft  sigh,  the 
expiration  of  a saint,  and  at  that  instant,  far  in  the  depths 
of  the  meridian  blue,  a clear  star  flashed  on  his  eye,  for 
the  first  time,  its  silver  radiance,  and  he  believed  that  she 
was  there. 

For  three-score  years  after  that,  there  was  on  the  des- 
ert, near  that  grou])  of  palm-trees  and  lonely  spring,  a 
small  turret  built  of  stones,  brought  a long  distance,  stone 
by  stone,  on  camels.  And  in  this  hut,  or  on  its  summit, 
lived  a good,  wise  man,  beloved  of  all  the  tribes,  and  es- 
pecially followed  by  his  own  immediate  tribe,  who,  with 
him,  rejected  Mohammed,  and  worshiped  an  unknown 
God,  through  the  medium  of  the  stars,  and  especially  one 
star,  which  he  had  ta^ight  them  to  reverence  above  all 
others. 

And  at  length  there  came  a night  when  the  wind  was 
abroad  on  the  desert,  and  the  voice  of  the  tempest  was 
fierce  and  terrible.  But  high  over  all  the  sand-hills,  and 
over  the  whirling  storms  of  sand,  sedate,  calm,  majestic, 
the  immutable  stars  were  looking  down  on  the  plain,  and 


A DYING  MAN. 


203 


the  old  man  on  his  tower  beheld  them,  and  went  forth  on 
the  wind  to  search  their  infinite  distances. 

That  night,  saith  the  tradition,  another  star  flashed  out 
of  heaven  beside  the  star  that  the  Arabs  worshiped,  and 
the  Sheik  Houssein  was  young  again  in  the  heaven  of  his 
beloved. 

Let  us  leave  him  to  the  mercy  of  the  tradition,  nor 
seek  to  know  whether  he  reached  that  blessed  abode. 

All  this  story,  that  I have  perhaps  wearied  you  in  re- 
lating, passed  through  my  mind  that  night  as  I lay  on 
deck  on  the  softly-cushioned  sofa,  and  looked  out  of  the 
cape  of  my  Syrian  cloak  at  the  sky.  In  the  midst  of 
my  endeavors  to  recall  such  parts  as  had  faded  from  my 
memory,  I Avas  roused  by  a deep  groan  near  me. 

One  of  my  creAv,  a man  from  the  upper  country,  black, 
but  Avith  finely-cut  features  and  straight  hair,  had  been  ill 
from  the  time  of  our  leaving  Cairo,  and  steadily  rejected 
any  Christian  remedies.  One  case  of  bilious  fever  I had 
managed  Avith  my  small  stock  of  medical  knowledge  and 
medicines,  and  had  cured.  But  Abd-el-Kerim  refused 
medicine,  preferring  to  die  a natural  death,  and  I did  not 
much  blame  him.  I Avas  of  opinion  from  the  first  that  his 
case  Avas  hopeless  ; and  as  these  Arabs  lay  all  cures  to 
their  oA\m  charms,  and  not  to  our  medicine,  but  charge 
all  deaths  on  the  unlucky  adviser,  and  call  it  poisoning,  it 
is  quite  as  Avell  to  let  their  diseases  alone,  unless  one  is 
tolerably  certain  of  being  able  to  eflfect  a complete  cure. 

He  Avas  dymg.  Delirium  had  set  in  wdth  high  fever 
three  days  before,  and  tAvo  of  the  men  had  been  detailed 
to  watch  him  constantly.  It  Avas  as  much  as  they  could 
do  to  keep  him  quiet  until  that  afternoon,  AALen  the  fever 
abated,  and  he  began  to  sink.  I had  forgotten  him  en- 
tirely during  my  reverie,  and  Avas  startled,  and  even 
alarmed,  by  the  groan.  He  lay  on  his  back,  Avrapped  in 
cloaks  and  blankets,  Avhich  Ave  had  provided  for  our  oayu 


204 


SMOKE  AND  DEATH. 


uses,  but  yielded  readily  to  his  greater  necessities.  I 
have  seldom  seen  as  fine  a countenance.  The  Nubians 
are  not  all  like  the  colored  population  of  America,  but 
many  of  them  have  finely-chiseled  Grecian  faces,  with 
high  foreheads,  and  sharply-cut  outlines.  He  was  a man 
of  thirty-five,  stout  and  athletic  in  body — in  fact,  Hercu- 
lean when  he  was  well,  but  he  was  weak  as  a child  now. 

Religion  he  had  none — positively  none.  Of  the  Mussul- 
mans four  fifths,  or  five  sixths,  are  infidels.  On  my  boat, 
w^hich  had  nineteen  professed  Mussulmans  on  board,  there 
were  but  three  who  j^rayed. 

This  man  had  never  shown  the  slightest  knowledge  of 
Moslem  faith  or  doctrine ; and  w’hat  were  his  thoughts  at 
this  moment  of  departure  I have  no  idea.  He  died  like  a 
dog,  and  his  companions  treated  him  as  such.  It  was  a 
strange  scene,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  that  on  the  deck  of 
the  Phantom^  at  midnight.  Stretched  at  full  length,  his 
dark  face  glistening  in  the  moonlight,  lay  the  dying  Nu- 
bian. Around  him  sat  four  of  the  crew,  his  companions. 
The  rest  were  forward,  sleeping.  These  were  smoking  a 
goza,  a water-pipe,  made  of  a cocoa-nut  shell,  in  which 
they  smoked  tombak,  breathing  enormous  quantities  of  it 
into  their  lungs,  and  ejecting  it  in  clouds.  I stood  at  his 
feet,  looking  down  on  his  huge  form,  and  wondering,  as 
usual,  as  I shall  never  cease  to  w^onder,  as  men  will  won- 
der till  they  know  more  than  here  and  now,  that  life 
could  leave  such  splendid  machinery  mere  dead  clay. 
He  breathed  slowly,  and  with  difiSculty.  His  eyes  roved 
from  face  to  face  of  his  companions  with  a sort  of  wistful 
expression  or  longing  for  life,  or  shrinking  from  the  terri- 
ble unknown  into  which  he  was  plunging,  and  then  he 
looked  up  at  the  sky.  But  he  saw  nothing  there.  To 
him  the  stars  were  but  lights,  the  moon  a greater  light ; 
and  he  had  no  thought  of  them  as  I had  at  that  moment, 
as  marks  along  the  way  his  swift  soul  would  travel  to  the 


DEAD  AND  BURIED. 


205 


place' of  judgment.  Xo  hope  of  immortality  was  in  his 
eye  or  heart ; no  looking  beyond  the  gloom.  The  swift, 
dark  river  that  flowed  below  him  was  to  him  no  emblem : 
he  saw  nothing  on  the  moonlit  bank  that  spoke  of  heaven 
or  God,  but  shuddering  fearfully,  he  lifted  his  stout  arms 
twice  into  the  air,  clenched  his  fists,  muttered  in  a hoarse 
voice,  “ Allah  !”  and  was  gone. 

His  companions  smoked  on  in  silence,  passing  the  goza 
from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  I stood  and  looked  at  them, 
and  at  him,  and  the  night  hastened  on  apace.  I could 
not  sleep  below  that  deck ; so  wrapping  closer  the  cloak 
around  my  face,  I lay  down  on  the  sofa  and  slept  and 
dreamed. 

I awoke  at  sunrise.  The  deck  was  clear.  The  dead 
man  was  gone.  I asked  for  him,  for  this  hasty  resurrec- 
tion surprised  me.  He  was  buried.  They  had  taken 
him  at  daybreak  to  a burial-place  near  a village,  dug 
his  graVe  a few  inches  deep,  and  left  him  for  the  wolves 
and  jackals.  I little  thought  to  see  such  a scene  on  the 
Xile.  How  much  less  one  that  I saw  later,  when  I felt 
the  quivering  pulse  fail  in  the  white  temple  of  a fellow- 
Christian,  who  had  lain  down  to  die  in  the  great  temple 
of  Luxor,  and  with  my  own  hands  closed  forever  his  eyes, 
whose  last  gaze  was  on  the  magnificent  columns  of  the 
great  Amunoph.  But  of  that  hereafter. 


id. 

Jt)e  6iitj  of  6igfe§- 

It  was  a quiet  Sunday  morning  when  we 
reached  the  great  city  of  Egypt,  Thebes  of  a 
hundred  gates.  We  had  tracked  from  about 
daylight ; and  after  the  sun  rose  I took  my 
position  on  the  uj^per  deck  to  watch  the  appear- 
ance of  the  hills  and  the  banks  of  the  river. 
It  was  not  difficult  to  imagine  ancient  Thebes, 
still  mighty  and  magnificent,  guarded  by  those 
lofty  mountains.  It  was  more  difficult  to  imagine 
Thebes  gone,  dead,  departed,  buried  in  caverns 
and  unknown  sepulchres  of  these  dark  ravines 

that  come  down  to  the  water  from  among 

—1  the  rocky  piles.  I could  more  easily  expect 
to  find  a million  men  living  in  the  valley  that  opened 
luxuriantly  before  me,  than  I could  believe  that  un- 
known millions  lay  in  the  earth  below,  or  the  rocks 
around  it.  Nowhere  in  all  Egypt  do  such  rugged  hills 
embrace  so  beautiful  a plain,  and  nowhere  is  there  a 
spot  so  well  suited  for  the  capital  of  a great  nation. 
The  mountains  are  here,  and  the  river  flows  between 
them,  and  Memnon  sits  calmly  on  his  throne,  and  looks 
over  the  plain  and  the  river  with  stony  eyes,  unused  to 
tears,  and  nothing  appears  to  lament  the  dead  glory. 
Not  even  the  sun,  not  even  the  moon  shines  less  bril- 


THEBES. 


207 


liantly,  less  joyously,  that  kings  and  princes,  matrons  and 
virgins,  wise  and  foolish,  weak  and  strong,  are  all  alike 
dead  in  the  past,  dead  in  the  valley,  dead  in  rock-hewn 
sepulchres ; the  palaces  ruins,  the  temples  ruins,  the 
homes  gone,  the  hearth-fires  ashes  long  ago,  the  hearts 
of  the  men  of  Thebes  dust — insensible,  still,  silent  dust. 

I do  not  know  that  you  understand  what  I am  en- 
deavoring to  express.  It  is,  in  plain  language,  this,  that 
before  approaching  the  valley  of  Thebes  you  can  readily 
expect  to  find  there  a great  city,  but  on  seeing  it  a broad 
plain,  level  as  subsiding  water  can  level  it,  and  covered 
with  corn  and  grain,  you  can  not  believe  that  it  is  the  site 
of  a ruined  capital,  once  the  wonder  of  the  world  for 
magnificence.  There  is  nothing  to  indicate  it.  You  ex- 
pect to  find  mounds,  heaps  of  rubbish,  or  some  of  the 
usual  marks  of  an  ancient  town.  But  there  is  nothing  of 
the  sort,  except  immediately  around  Luxor  and  Karnak. 
Fields  of  waving  grain,  of  lupins,  lentils,  and  doura,  or 
Indian  corn,  cover  the  flat  expanse  of  the  valley,  broken 
nowhere  by  ruin,  rock,  or  mound,  except  in  these  locali- 
ties, and  excepting  also  the  two  colossi,  who  sit  in  lone- 
some majesty  among  the  fields  of  green  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  river.  That  temples  and  palaces  have  been  here, 
their  vast  remains  indicate ; but  those  on  the  west  side 
of  the  river  are  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  not  on 
the  cultivated  land ; and  Karnak  stands  solitary  on  the 
eastern  side,  a majestic  solitude  indeed,  among  'heaps  of 
earth  that  may  cover  the  floors  of  ancient  habitations. 

In  fact,  I am  induced  to  believe  that  Thebes  never  was 
a city  of  large  population.  It  was,  probably,  a city  of 
temples,  possibly  of  colleges — an  Oxford  or  a Cambridge, 
and  a place  to  which  men  were  carried  for  sepulture 
in  holy  ground.  But  I do  not  believe  that  any  great 
crowd  of  inhabitants  'were  ever  found  here. 

We  saw,  first  of  all  the  ruins  of  Thebes,  the  old  temple 


208 


THEBAN  TOMBS. 


* at  Goornou  on  the  west  bank,  and  then  the  Reineseion, 
the  colossi,  and  Medeenet  Habon,  all  distant ; and  at 
length,  on  the  east,  over  the  high  banks  along  which  Ave 
Avere  tracking,  the  obelisks  and  the  lofty  tOAvers  of  the 
propylon  of  Karnak  looked  doAvn  on  hs. 

The  valley  of  the  Nile  Avidens  at  this  point.  I ha\x  no 
means  of  comparing  it  Avith  other  places  on  the  rNer,  but 
it  is  as  AA’ide,  I should  imagine,  as  at  any  point  aboA^e  the 
Delta.  On  the  western  side  the  plain  is  from  two  to  three 
miles  AAude,  and  on  the  eastern  at  least  five,  perhaps  eight 
or  ten. 

The  mountains  on  the  Avest  are  higher  than  at  any 
other  place  in  Egypt,  and  their  character  is  so  peculiar 
that  no  one  can  form  a just  idea  of  the  appearance  of 
Thebes  until  he  understands  this. 

I think  I have  before  remarked  that  all  Egyptian  hills 
and  mountains  are  absolutely  destitute  of  vegetation. 
No  shrub,  or  tree,  or  blade  of  grass  takes  root  on  their 
rocky  sides.  They  are,  in  fact,  only  A'ast  piles  of  rock, 
the  sides  being  either  precipitous  or  formed  of  the  debris 
of  the  stone.  The  hills  of  Thebes  are  intersected  by 
numerous  ravines,  Avhich  Avind  their  Avay  through  them 
in  almost  cavernous  gloom.  Frequently  the  hills  are 
nearly  a thousand  feet  high  on  each  side  of  these  raA'ines, 
ascending  by  terraces  of  several  hundred  feet  each.  On 
the  front  of  the  hills  overlooking  the  valley  they  show 
the  openings  of  tombs,  hundreds  and  thousands,  while 
hundreds  and  thousands  remain  unoj^ened.  On  these 
hills  the  eye  of  the  traveler  rests  with  more  intense  in- 
terest than  on  the  ruins  of  temples  and  palaces,  for  there, 
during  a thousand  years  of  royal  prosperity,  the  Theban 
princes,  priests,  and  j)eople,  buried  their  dead, 

“ And  there  the  bodies  lay,  age  after  age, 

Mute,  life-like,  rounded,  fresh,  and  undecaying. 

Like  those  asleep  in  quiet  hermitage 

With  gentle  sleep  about  their  eyelids  playing ; 


TURF  ON  GRAVES. 


209 


And  living  in  their  rest,  beyond  the  rage 

Of  death  or  life  ; while  fate  was  still  arraying, 

In  hveries  ever  new,  the  rapid,  blind, 

And  fleeting  generations  of  mankind.” 

It  is  always  so.  Men  will  turn  their  eyes  from  a palace 
at  any  time  to  look  at  a tomb,  and  in  a landscape  will 
forget  the  beauty  of  hill  and  forest  to  gaze  on  the  white 
stones  of  a grave-yard.  I remember  w^ell  that  once  in 
my  life  I fell  upon  a grave  in  a grand  old  forest.  The 
trees  were  lofty  and  majestic,  and  the  sky,  seen  through 
their  branches,  was  far  away  and  deep,  and  winning  and 
glorious.  The  voice  of  the  mountain  wind  was  musical, 
and  the  voice  of  a stream  that  wound  its  joyful  way 
around  that  solitary  grave  was  even  more  melodious. 
But  I forgot  the  sky,  and  trees,  and  wind,  and  sat  down 
among  the  dead  leaves  of  the  last  autumn  to  hold  com- 
munion with  the  unknown  spirit  of  him  who  slept  below. 
I did  not  know  whether,  he  was  Indian  or  white  man ; 
nay,  I did  not  know  that  he  was  a man,  saving  only  that 
I did  not  think  any  human  being  would  have  laid  a 
Avo:nan  there  to  sleep  alone  in  the  forest  through  all  the 
days  and  nights  of  the  dismal  years ; but  I knew  by  that 
strange  consciousness  that  every  one  has  felt,  but  no  one 
can  describe,  that  human  dust  lay  in  its  kindred  dust  be- 
low, and  I j^aused  to  look  on  the  turf  that  hid  it. 

The  turf!  It  is  comforting  when  the  cold  is  coming 
over  one,  when  the  eye  is  dimming,  the  hand  failing,  the 
lip  trembling,  the  heart  hushing — it  is  comforting,  I say, 
to  think  that  one  will  be  laid  under  green  sods,  whereon 
violets  may  grow,  and  that  this  vile  dust  of  humanity  may 
have  a resurection  in  roses  or  myrtle  blossoms.  There  is 
no  such  comfort  here.  No  grave  in  Egypt  has  turf  on  it, 
nor  grass,  nor  flower,  nor  tree,  nor  creeping  plant.  It  is 
but  sand,  or  the  decaying  dust  of  ancient  houses  in  which 
they  laid  their  dead,  and  the  winds  sweep  over  them. 


^10 


ISLAMIN  THE  SULKY. 


and  mounds  increase  to  gigantic  size  or  wholly  disappear 
in  one  night’s  blasts.  I do  not  think  I could  sleep  here 
at  all.  I do  not  think  that  my  dust  would  consent  to 
mingle  with  this  soil.  Those  ancient  Thebans  doubtless 
felt  all  this,  for  I have  less  faith  than  formerly  in  the  idea 
that  they  wished  to  preserve  their  bodies  till  they  should 
come  to  reclaim  them.  The  Nile  plain  was  no  place  to 
lay  their  dead.  It  was  annually  flooded  by  the  river, 
and  no  man  would  be  laid  there.  The  sandy  desert  was 
a wild  spot,  and  hyenas  could  find  their  way  into  deep 
graves.  It  was  horrible  to  thmk  of  it.  Only  the  rock 
was  left,  and  the  rock  they  chose,  and  cut  their  tombs  in 
it,  and  wound  their  bodies  in  spices  and  gums,  and  slept 
well.  Yea  well.  Blessed  is  he  who  can  find  a grave  in 
Egypt  that  will  last  him  a century ; more  blessed  far  if  it 
last  him  three  thousand  years. 

We  had  ordered  our  letters  to  be  forwarded  from 
Cairo  to.  Luxor,  and  Abd-el-Atti  left  us  slowly  tracking 
up  the  river,  and  hastened  on  to  the  village  to  get  them 
for  us.  He  wns  disappointed,  and  unwilling  to  see  our 
disappointment,  sent  a messenger  back  to  meet  us,  with 
intelligence  that  we  had  no  letters,  and  on  my  word  we 
thought  but  little  of  Thebes  after  that  until  we  found 
ourselves  at  the  shore  by  the  great  temple  of  Luxor. 

We  were  scarcely  at  the  shore  when  Mustapha  Aga, 
the  American  agent,  came  down,  and  after  him  Islamin 
Bey,  the  governor  or  nazir  of  this  section,  a bad-looking 
Turk,  ignorant  and  stupid,  whom  we  received  without 
much  attention  and  left  to  smoke  and  drink  cofiee  alone 
on  the  upper  deck  while  we  strolled  u|3  to  the  temple. 
Perhaps  this  inattention  on  our  part  was  the  cause  of  his 
subsequent  rudeness  to  us,  but  as  it  cost  us  nothing  and 
him  his  governorship . he  had  the  worst  of  it,  and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  he  learned  better  manners  for  the  next  time. 

The  first  idea  that  I received,  when  a boy,  of  the  mag- 


TEMPLE  AT  LUXOR. 


211 


nitude  of  the  ruins  of  Egyptian  temples  was  from  hearing 
that  one  of  them  was  so  large  that  a modern  Arab  village 
stood  on  the  roof  of  it.  I had  not  retained  the  locality, 
but  the  moment  that  I looked  up  at  Luxor  I recognized 
the  ruin  of  which  the  story  was  told.  Doubtless  this  was 
the  temple,  though  afterward  I found  the  same  thing  true 
of  Edfou,  and  of  one  or  two  others,  but  they  were  small 
temples  compared  with  this. 

Luxor,  or  El  Uksorein — “ The  Palaces,”  is  on  the  east 
bank  of  the  Nile,  and  the  ruins  of  its  great  temple  rise 
among  the  crude  brick  and  mud  houses  of  the  modern 
village.  Nothing  remains  here  of  the  ancient  except  only 
this  temple.  Karnak  lies  two  miles  from  it  on  the  north, 
but  the  fields  between  contain  no  memorials  or  relics  of 
the  city  that  once  connected  them. 

The  temple,  or  those  portions  of  it  which  now  remain, 
are  on  a line  parallel  with  the  main  part  of  tlie  river  as  it 
flows  by  them,  but  a branch  or  arm  of  the  Nile,  which 
flows  around  a large  island  above  Luxor,  comes  into  the 
main  channel  again  here,  and  the  rear  of  the  temple  is  on 
this  branch.  The  total  length  of  the  temple  is  about  a 
thousand  feet.  The  front  was  originally  connected  with 
Karnak ; how  or  when,  it  concerns  not  my  purpose  now 
to  discuss.  But  the  great  entrance  to  the  temple  is  now 
surrounded  by  the  mud  and  brick  houses  of  the  inhabit- 
ants. Nevertheless  they  have  had  the  decency,  unknowm 
in  some  places,  to  leave  an  open  space  before  the  great 
propylon,  where  the  astonished  traveler  may^pause  in 
awe  before  the  vast  entrance,  or  lie  down  in  the  dust  and 
look  up  at  the  obelisk  and  the  huge  towers  sculptured  all 
over  with  the  representations  of  the  valiant  deeds  of  kings 
long  dead  and  forgotten. 

But  if  any  one  were  inclined  to  lie  down  there,  let  him 
be  warned  that  it  is  a Coptic  neighborhood,  and  fleas 
love  Coptic  blood  and  Christian  blood  of  all  kinds,  and 


212 


OBELISKS  OF  LUXOR. 


fleas  are  plenty  here.  He  will  do  well  not  to  lie  down, 
but  to  stand  and  rather  break  his  neck  wdth  looking  up 
at  the  obelisk  and  trying  to  read  its  large  characters. 

The  other  obelisk  is  gone  to  Paris.  It  stands  in  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  on  a j^edestal,  wdiereon  are  graven 
in  gilded  letters  the  deeds  of  Louis  Philippe,  King  of  the 
French,  and  the  old  gray  granite  looks  down  scoffingly 
on  the  gilded  lines  and  figures  below.  The  remaining 
obelisk,  solitary  but  stately,  is  far  more  grand  and  impos- 
ing in  its  appearance  than  its  ancient  companion,  and 
rumor  said  that  the  wandering  obelisk  of  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  remain  in  its  pres- 
ent place.  The  view  of  the  Arch  of  Triumph  from  the 
Tuileries  is  obstructed  by  it,  and  Louis  Kapoleon  loves  a 
long  prospect,  especially  when  he  can  secure  it  by  remov- 
ing monuments  of  the  reign  of  his  predecessor.  It  is  sor- 
rowful to  think  that  the  stone  had  remained  almost  four 
thousand  years  on  its  base  at  Luxor,  and  now  has  begun 
an  existence  of  changes.  The  next  Louis  Somebody  will 
find  it  obstructing  his  view  in  some  other  direction.  Noth- 
ing remains  stationary  in  Paris. 

The  doorway  is  guarded  by  colossal  statues  of  granite, 
of  which  the  heads  only  are  above  the  earth.  But  these 
are  highly  polished,  and  enough  is  visible  to  show  their 
former  grandeur  and  beauty.  Passing  between  these, 
you  enter  the  doorway,  and  find  yourself  in  a narrow, 
dirty  street  or  alley,  of  the  modern  Arab  village.  The 
splendid  columns  which  once  flanked  the  court  of  the 
temple  are  yet  standing,  many  of  them,  but  the  huts  of  the 
village  inclose  and  cover  them.  Entering  these  miserable 
hovels,  you  find  the  women  and  children,  with  sheep,  dogs, 
and  goats,  in  promiscuous  heaps,  and  all  manner  of  filth 
and  dirt  around  the  sides  of  these  half-buried  columns ; 
whose  glorious  legends  of  ancient  princes  stare  solemnly 
on  the  entering  stranger,  as  if  to  ask  him  what  hard 


M U S T A P II  A A G A . 


213 


decree  of  fate  has  led  him  into  the  same  prison  in  which 
they  are  doomed  to  darkness  and  oblivion'. 

This  court  of  the  temple  was  about  two  hundred  feet 
long  by  a hundred  and  seventy  wide,  and  another  propy- 
lon here  opened  into  the  grand  hall  or  colonnade.  The 
hovels  are  closely  packed  here,  and  the  alley  turns  to  the 
right,  and  again  to  the  left,  bringing  you  to  the  great 
pillars  beyond. 

Up  to  this  second  propylon  the  temple  was  built  by  the 
second  Remeses,  the  great  Sesostris  of  Greek  history,  and 
the  builder  of  almost  all  the  most  magnificent  temples  and 
palaces  of  Egypt.  He  added  these  portions  to  the  older 
parts,  which  were  built  by  Amunoph  III.,  whose  period 
was  about  1430  b.  c.,  and  within  the  century  after  the  ex- 
odus of  the  Israelites.  Remeses  II.  was  within  a century 
later.  I am  now  following  Wilkinson’s  chronology. 

Passing  through  the  second  propylon,  as  I have  re- 
marked, you  would  enter  the  great  colonnade ; but  this 
you  are  now  compelled  to  avoid,  and  re-enter  the  temple 
at  the  great  pillars,  of  which  two  rows,  of  six  in  each  ro'w, 
are  standing.  The  earth  covers  their  pedestals,  and  the 
columns  themselves,  to  a height  of  perhaps  twenty  feet, 
and  as  much  more  remains  uncovered,  with  the  immense 
stone  architrave  on  each  side. 

These  columns  are  among  the  largest  known  in  Egypt, 
but  they  are  small  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  grand 
hall  at  Karnak.  In  the  midst  of  these  massive  columns, 
stands  the  house  of  Mustapha  Aga,  the  American  con- 
sular agent,  of  whom  I may  be  pardoned  for  pausing  here 
to  say  something. 

Mustapha  is  getting  to  be  an  old  man,  but  a better,  or 
more  capable  one  for  his  place  and  position,  could  not  be 
found.  There  is  no  place  in  the  East  where  a consular 
agent  is  more  necessary  than  at  Luxor.  A large  number 
of  American  travelers  annually  visit  the  place,  and  every 


214 


mustapha’s  pay. 


one  needs  advice,  assistance,  and  protection  from  the  ra- 
pacity of  dragomans,  sailors,  or  Coptic  antique  dealers. 
Mustapha  fulfills  these  duties  admirably;  and  the  only 
regret  about  it  is  that  he  does  it  gratuitously,  receiving 
no  pay  whatever,  except  in  the  way  of  presents  which 
travelers  may  think  of  giving  him,  and  these  are  never  in 
money,  and  therefore  generally  mere  nothings.  Ordina- 
rily they  are  wine,  and  as  Mustapha  drinks  no  wine  him- 
self, the  stranger  Avho  leaves  it  is  only  supplying  the 
others  who  follow  him,  for  Mustapha  gives  it  all  away 
again.  Can  not  this  be  improved  ? The  old  fellow  would 
be  made  abundantly  happy  by  an  allowance  of  five  hun- 
dred dollars  a year,  and  it  is  sincerely  to  be  desired  that 
our  government  might  direct  this  to  be  made.  I am 
confident  that  no  American  traveler  on  the  Nile  has 
failed  to  experience  his  hosjfitality  and  kind  attentions, 
and  I know  that  every  one  would  join  in  a request  of  this 
kind  to  the  government.  I have  j^aused  to  speak  of  him 
in  my  description  of  the  temple  because  he  is  now  a part 
of  it,  and  from  your  boat  you  scarcely  ever  look  up  at  the 
grand  columns  without  seeing  Mustapha  seated  on  the  porch 
of  his  house,  between  two  of  these  massive  pillars,  under 
the  gigantic  architrave,  quietly  smoking  his  chibouk,  and 
entertaining  some  friends,  either  foreign  or  native. 

His  house  is  the  most  comfortable  private  house  in 
Upper  Egypt.  It  is  all  on  one  floor,  and  covers  a large 
space.  The  halls  are  roomy  and  airy,  the  chambers  pa- 
pered, dark  and  cool,  the  furniture  plain  and  comfortable, 
while  the  grand  front  of  ancient  columns  gives  it  a more 
royal  appearance  than  the  citadel  of  Cairo. 

The  remainder  of  the  temple,  after  passing  this  colon- 
nade, is  inclosed  in  or  covered  by  the  modern  houses, 
and  the  rear  chambers,  the  adytum,  and  the  holy  rooms, 
are  still  perfect,  while  on  their  roof  stands  a large  part  of 
the  village.  I shall  not  attempt  any  description  of  these 


A CHRISTIAN  CHAPEL. 


215 


various  halls,  courts,  and  chambers,  which  cover  a space 
of  nearly  five  hundred  feet  in  length.  One  observation 
alone  Avill  suffice  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  splendor  of 
these  buildings.  Every  stone  in  an  Egyptian  temple 
which  exposes  a surface  to  the  eye,  whether  Avithin  or 
Avithout  the  temple,  is  elaborately  sculptured  with  pic- 
tures or  hieroglyphics.  No  Avail  is  Avithout  its  legends 
and  representations.  Outside  the  temple  on  the  lofty 
Avails  are  often  represented  battle  scenes  elaborately 
carved,  in  Avhich  the  builder  shows  himself  as  a victor, 
usually  of  gigantic  size  as  compared  Avith  those  Avhom  he 
conquers.  The  same,  or  similar  scenes,  cover  the  inner 
Avails,  on  Avhich  are  also  found  mythological  representa- 
tions Avhich  are  a puzzle  to  the  student,  and  are  likely  to 
remain  so  forever.  Of  the  minuteness  and  beauty  of 
these  sculptures  no  idea  can  be  given  by  description,  nor 
Avould  those  Avho  have  not  seen  them  be  ready  to  believe 
that  three  thousand  years  haA^e  left  them  so  exquisitely 
perfect  as  Ave  noAV  find  them. 

The  rear,  or  southern  part  of  the  Temple  of  Luxor,  is 
divided  into  several  apartments,  each  covered  with  sculp- 
tures indicating  its  peculiar  design.  The  roof  of  this  part 
is  noAV  occupied  by  the  huts  of  the  natives,  and  filth  and 
vermin  abound  in  the  silent  rooms  beloAA^  One  of  the 
rooms,  noAV  open  to  the  sky,  was  used  in  early  times  by 
the  Christians  as  a chapel  for  the  Avorship  of  Christ,  and 
around  it  are  the  remains  of  their  paintings  on  plaster, 
Avhich  covered  and  preserved  the  hieroglyphics  on  the 
stone  AA^alls.  This  is  the  case  with  many  of  the  temples 
of  Egypt ; and  wdiile  the  early  Christians  defaced  and  de- 
stroyed much  Avhich  they  regarded  as  idolatrous  and  pro- 
fane, they  have  preserved  much  else  by  covering  it  Avith 
plaster  and  mud,  Avhich  being  now  removed,  leaves  the 
sculptures  as  fresh  and  clear  as  they  Avere  a thousand 
years  ago. 


216 


COUNTERFEIT  ANTIQUES. 


Of  the  grandeur  of  the  Temple  of  Luxor,  no  adequate 
idea  can  be  formed,  even  by  the  visitor  Avho  stands  among 
its  ruins.  From  its  great  ju’opylon,  or  from  some  por- 
tion of  its  massive  walls,  an  avenue  stretched  away  to 
Karnak,  ornamented  with  all  the  splendor  of  ancient  art, 
and  guarded  on  each  side  by  colossal  rams,  the  emblems 
of  the  deity  of  Thebes.  Of  this  avenue  only  the  north- 
ern end  remains,  in  ruins,  but  majestic  even  in  ruins,  arid 
a lofty  gateway,  of  Ptolemaic  times,  closes  it.  Thus  Kar- 
nak was,  in  some  sort,  a continuation  of  the  Temple  of 
Luxor,  and,  in  fact,  all  the  temples  of  Thebes  were  con- 
nected by  avenues,  and  possibly  by  bridges,  so  that  it 
was  a city  of  temples, 

I left  the  Phantom  and  walked  around  the  village,  my 
footsteps  dogged  by  twenty  donkey-doys,  and  as  many 
donkeys,  each  of  the  former  hoping  that  I would  grow 
tired  and  patronize  one  of  them.  At  every  corner  and 
turn  a Coptic  scoundrel  would  produce  a lot  of  antiques 
for  sale,  and  I amused  myself  by  asking  prices.  At 
Luxor  rates.  Dr.  Abbott’s  collection  is  worth  a million. 

O ! confident  Howajji,  beware  in  Luxor  of  Ibrahim  the 
Copt,  and  on  the  western  shore  of  Achmet-el-Kamouri, 
the  Mussulman.  Skillful  manufacturers  of  every  form  of 
antique  are  plenty  in  the  neighborhood,  and  these  men 
have  them  in  their  employ,  and  sell  to  unwary  travelers 
the  productions  of  the  modern  Arabs  as  veritable  speci- 
mens of  the  antique.  Achmet  is  the  chief  manufacturer 
himself,  and  has  a ready  hand  at  the  chisel. 

The  manufacture  of  antiques  is  a large  business  in 
Egypt,  and  very  profitable.  Scarabaei  are  moulded  from 
clay  or  cut  from  stone,  with  close  imitation  of  the  ancient, 
and  sold  readily  at  prices  varying  from  one  to  five  dollars. 
At  Thebes  is  the  head-quarters  of  this  business.  Still,  no 
antiquarian  will  be  deceived ; and  it  requires  very  little 
practice  to  be  able  in  an  instant  to  determine  whether  an 


SUNRISE  ON  MEMNON. 


217 


article  is  ancient  or  modern.  When  the  Copt  finds  that 
you  do  know  the  distinction,  he  becomes  communicative, 
and  readily  lets  you  into  the  secret  of  his  business ; and 
while  he  is  confidentially  informing  you  of  the  way  in 
which  the  Arabs  do  it,  and  how  this  is  modern  and  that 
is  not,  beware  lest  you  become  too  trusting,  and  he  sells 
you  in  selling  a ring,  or  a vase,  or  a seal.  He  is  a wily 
fellow  and  sharp,  and  he  knows  well  how  to  manage  a 
Howajji. 

A strong  breeze  from  the  north Avard  was  not  to  be  lost 
oil  our  upAvard  A^oyage,  and  after  one  night  at  Luxor  Ave 
pressed  on. 

But  I could  not  go  without  one  vieAA"  over  the  plain, 
and  at  break  of  day  I went  up  the  hill  to  the  foot  of  the 
propylon  to  Avers  of  the  temple,  and  looked  up  to  their 
summit.  There  must  be  a way  to  climb  them,  and  AALile 
I Avas  looking  -for  it,  a bright  Arab  boy  made  his  appear- 
ance and  offered  to  shoAV  me.  I followed  him  readily, 
and  he  led  me  through  the  propylon  to  the  narroAV  alley 
already  spoken  ol^  and  around  the  corner  into  a Ioav  door 
in  the  mud  AA^all.  This  oi^ened  into  a yard  or  court,  full 
of  sheep  and  doura,  or  corn-stalks,  and  passing  through 
another  like  it,  I climbed  a mud  Avail  and  Avalked  along 
this  to  the  corner  of  the  toAA'er,  which  was  someAALat 
broken.  Climbing  this  some  tAventy  feet  and  going  around 
the  end,  I discovered  an  opening  into  the  body  of  the 
tower,  where,  craAvling  in,  I found  a stairway,  encumbered 
Avith  huge  masses  of  fallen  stone,  and  up  this  I ascended, 
Avith  no  little  difficulty,  to  the  top  of  the  toAver.  Here  I 
sat  and  Avatched  the  coming  of  the  sun.  The  Libyan  hills 
were  first  lit,  and  the  golden  line  of  light  came  sloAAdy 
down  their  rugged  sides — doAvn,  doAvn,  until  it  reached 
the  tombs  that  open  to  the  east,  and  the  Memnonium  and 
Medeenet  Habou,  and  then  it  touched  the  lips  of  Memnon 
and  his  old  companion.  I saw  the  red  flash  on  the  giant 

10 


218 


PILGRIM  FOOTPRINTS. 


head,  and  I bent  my  head  forward  to  hear  the  sound  of 
the  salutation ; but  there  was  no  sound — Memnon  is  vocal 
only  in  tradition. 

A peculiarity  of  the  tower  on  which  I was  standing  I 
have  never  seen  noted  by  any  travelers.  Every  stone  on 
the  summit  is  covered  with  footprints,  cut  more  or  less 
deep  in  the  surface.  By  whom  these  were  cut  no  record 
remains  to  tell. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  they  are  the  marks  of  pil- 
grim feet,  but  who  were  the  pilgrims  that  thus  recorded 
their  accomplished  vows?  Afterward  I found  similar 
marks  on  stones  on  the  river  bank  in  Nubia,  but  always 
on  elevated  blutfs,  wdiere  perhaps  pilgrims  standing  could 
catch  a view  of  some  far  shrine.  Sometimes  they  were 
simple  parallelograms,  two  side  by  side,  with  four  short 
marks  at  the  end  of  each,  to  signify  the  toes  of  the  foot, 
but  oftener  they  were  well- drawn  feet,  large  or  small,  as 
if  marked  out  around  the  foot  itself. 

They  are  not  the  rude  scratchings  of  the  modern 
Arabs,  or  of  those  who  drew  the  boats  and  animals  that 
are  found  on  the  rocks  of  Nubia  and  elsewhere.  That 
there  was  a design  in  their  being  placed  here  is  evident 
from  the  number  of  them,  and  from  their  being  only  on 
the  summit  of  the  lofty  tower,  and  only  on  the  topmost 
course  of  stones.  There  are  none  below  this.  Was  there 
any  idea  of  the  footsteps  of  angels  here,  or  of  departing 
souls,  or  of  departing  prayers  ? 

It  is  not  the  intention  of  this  book  to  record  any  of  the 
results  of  study  in  Egypt,  and  I shall  therefore  pass  en- 
tirely over  that  subject.  As  we  remained  at  Luxor  but 
one  day,  reserving  a long  visit  for  our  return  trip,  the  time 
that  I had  was,  of  course,  too  brief  to  make  any  examina- 
tions of  places  or  things ; but  I had  informed  myself  pre- 
viously, as  well  as  books  and  papers  and  charts  could  assist 
me,  and  after  a hasty  inspection  of  a few  spots,  I directed 


EXCAVATIONS. 


219 


the  commencement  of  some  excavations  to  be  continued 
during  my  trip  up  the  river.  The  governor,  on  my  requisi- 
tion, furnished  me  with  fifty  men  for  work ; but,  alas ! for 
Egyptian  excavations,  they  had  no  tools  of  any  sort  or 
kind  save  only  the  fingers  God  gave  them,  or  as  many  of 
them  as  each  man  had  not  cut  ofi“.  For  I have  before  re- 
marked, that  the  natives  are  thus  mutilated  to  save  them- 
selves from  the  conscription.  With  their  hands  and  palm- 
leaf  baskets  these  fifty  men  might  do  as  much  in  a day  as 
five  Irishmen  with  shovels  and  wheel-barrows,  and  their 
pay  was  about  the  same,  being  a piastre  and  half  to  each, 
or  about  eight  cents  American  per  day,  making  the  w^hole 
pay  about  four  dollars  for  the  fifty.  Placing  them  under 
the  direction  of  Mustapha  Aga,  the  w^orthy  consular  agent, 
and  giving  him  a letter  to  the  governor  as  my  agent,  I 
left  Luxor  to  seek  more  remote  antiquities. 


Jhe  Bijcieot  £§ne. 


We  left  Thebes  with  regret.  I believe 
that  almost  any  one  of  ns  would  most 
wnllingly  have  paused  here  and  rested, 
going  no  further  up  the  river.  But  there 
was  much  to  be  seen  beyond,  and  it  is  best,  as  a general 
rule,  to  reserve  all  stoppages  for  the  return  trip,  especially 
if  the  wind  blows. 

We  had  no  incidents  of  voyage  between  Thebes  and 
Esne  worthy  of  record.  To  us  the  most  important  was 
the  supply  of  fresh  vegetables  and  fruits,  which  we  had 
from  the  garden  of  Mustapha  Pasha,  at  Erment.  We 
Avere  two  days  between  the  two  places. 

At  Esne  I awoke  in  the  morning  early,  and  walked  up 
into  the  town,  intending  to  see  the  bazaars  only,  and  re- 
turn to  breakfast.  To  my  surprise,  I found  myself  at  the 
door  of  the  temple,  which  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
remains  in  Egypt,  and  I entered  it. 

It  is  not  my  intention,  as  I have  already  said,  to  de- 
scribe the  various  ruins  of  Egypt  as  I see  them.  Books 
are  already  full  of  these  descriptions.  It  will  be  enough 
if  I succeed  in  giving  a general  idea  of  them,  sufficient 
for  the  reader’s  convenience  in  following  my  personal 
adventures. 

Esne  stands  on  mounds,  the  accumulated  heaps  of  an 


T E MP  LE  OF  ESNE. 


221 


ancient  city.  The  temple  itself  is  totally  buried  in  these 
])iles  of  rubbish,  and  the  city  is  built  over  them,  so  that 
its  former  extent  or  ai^pearance  is  now  unknown.  Only 
the  portico  remains,  and  this  being  some  feet  higher  tlian 
other  parts  of  the  building,  remained  standing  above  the 
earth.  A few  years  ago  the  visitor  could  walk  into  it, 
just  under  the  roof,  and  see  the  capitals  of  the  columns 
and  the  sjdendidly  carved  ceiling.  Mohammed  Ali,  being 
one  day  at  Esne,  and  having  nothing  better  to  do,  ordered 
the  excavation  of  this  portico,  and  a thousand  fellahs 
were  set  to  work,  with  hands  and  baskets,  to  carry  out 
the  earth  which  lay  between  the  columns,  and  find  the 
pavement,  which  was  thirty  feet  below.  It  has  been  in- 
sinuated that  the  pasha  wanted  a powder  magazine,  and 
that  this,  and  not  respect  for  antiquity,  induced  him  to 
undertake  this  laudable  enterprise.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
the  result  was  the  exposure  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
buildings,  ancient  or  modern,  in  the  world. 

The  earth  m front  remains  at  the  old  level,  kept  by  a 
brick  wall  from  falling  into  the  inclosure.  You  enter  a 
small  yard  or  inclosure,  among  the  houses,  which  stand, 
with  their  walls,  not  more  than  fifteen  feet  from  the  front 
of  the  temple,  and  passing  along  this  narrow  alley,  de- 
scend by  wooden  steps  into  the  excavated  area  of  the 
portico,  finding  yourself  then  in  an  immense  chamber, 
the  lofty  stone  ceiling  supported  by  rows  of  massive 
columns,  and  the  walls  and  columns  alike  covered  with 
a profusion  of  sculpture  characteristic  of  the  late  period 
at  which  this  temple  was  built. 

The  light  which  comes  in  through  the  narrow  space 
left  between  the  cornice  and  the  ground,  greatly  dimin- 
ished by  the  proximity  of  the  houses,  leaves  a sepulchral 
rather  than  a “ dim,  religious”  gloom  Avithin  ; but  to  this 
the  eyes  at  length  become  accustomed,  and  then  the 
forms  of  gods  and  men  start  from  the  Avails  and  salute 


222 


MUMMIES. 


the  stranger  with  their  cold,  calm  eyes.  Strange  figures, 
hideous  forms  of  gods  and  sacred  beasts,  unknown  even 
to  old  Pliny,  are  found  here  on  the  stones,  and  on  the 
ceiling  is  a zodiac,  Avith  curious  representations  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

Three  doorways,  ojiening  formerly  into  the  chambers  of 
the  temple,  are  now  closed  with  stone  to  keep  out  or  in  the 
earth  on  which  the  city  stands,  and  we  are  left  to  imagine 
the  secrets  which  the  earth  covers.  Perhaps  some  national 
expedition  may  hereafter  excavate  these  rooms,  and  show 
their  treasures  of  legend  and  pictures  to  the  Avorld. 

The  temple  portico  does  not  antedate  the  time  of  the 
Caesars,  and  is  therefore  comparatively  a recent  affair.  It 
is  a matter  of  chronological  interest  that  possibly  and 
probably  these  columns  were  carved  during  the  lifetime 
of  Christ  on  earth,  and  perhaps  while  he  Avas  in  Egypt. 

I came  out  of  the  temple  after  a brief  visit,  and  hast- 
ened back  to  the  boat  to  breakfast,  after  A^hich  I returned 
AA'ith  the  ladies. 

There  Avere  lying  in  the  alley,  or  small  yard  of  Avhich  I 
haA^e  spoken,  five  or  six  mummies,  badly  broken  to  pieces. 
They  had  been  here  for  ten  or  fifteen  years,  being  go\"- 
ernment  property,  taken  from  the  Arabs  who  had  found 
them.  The  government  monopolizes  all  antiques  here. 
It  was  manifest  that  these  Avere  considered  worthless  and 
would  soon  be  scattered,  and  I felt  at  liberty  to  investigate 
their  condition  and  contents. 

But  tAvo  proved  to  be  of  any  interest.  One  W'as  prob- 
ably a Avoman,  doubtless  of  the  priestly  order,  and  from 
the  same  circumstances  by  which  we  ordinarily  judge  the 
age  of  a horse,  I judged  that  she  Avas  young.  One  of 
her  teeth,  beautifully  shaped,  AA^hite,  and  perfect,  lies  now 
by  me  as  I Avrite,  and  I am  Avondering  Avhat  kisses  were 
pressed  on  them,  AA^hat  words  of  love  escaped  through 
them. 


PRIESTESS  AND  PRIEST. 


223 


She  lay  in  a coffin  that  had  been  elaborately  painted, 
but  the  paint  was  now  covered  with  mud  and  filth.  On 
raising  her  body  from  its  position,  I found  that  she  was 
laid  on  a bed  of  flowers.  The  bottom  of  the  case  was 
filled  with  them,  worked  in  wreaths  and  garlands.  There 
were  more  than  a peck  of  them,  lying  precisely  as  they 
were  laid  when  she  was  placed  upon  them,  and  I never 
felt  more  profound  regret  at  the  disturbance  of  a repose 
than  that.  If  I had  known  the  tomb  from  which  she 
came,  I would  have  been  strongly  tempted  to  carry  her 
back,  and  close  it  up,  and  in  some  way  forbid  entrance  to 
it  thenceforth  forever.  As  it  was,  I but  laid  her  back  on 
the  wreaths  of  ancient  leaves,  dry  now  and  dead  as  her 
name  and  memory,  and  turned  to  another  of  her  compan- 
ions. 

He  was  a stalwart  man,  full  six  feet  high,  and  the 
shawls  in  which  he  was  wrapped  w’ere  of  rare  and  costly 
fabrics,  decayed  now,  and  worthless.  Outside  of  all  his 
wrappings  had  been  a shawl  of  beads,  not  uncommon 
as  an  ornament  of  mummies.  The  beads  were  earthen,  of 
various  colors,  blue  predominating  ; some  of  them  long, 
such  as  ladies  call  bugles^  and  others  small.  They  were 
arranged  in  a diamond-shaped  figure,  the  centre  of  the 
back  being  a large  scarahoeus.  The  scarabseus,  let  me 
remark,  for  the  benefit  of  the  unlearned  in  Egyptian 
antiquities,  is  the  common  black  beetle  of  the  country, 
which  was  sacred  to  the  sun,  and  was  itself  an  emblem  of 
that  God.  It  became  the  most  common  form  of  relig:- 
ions  ornament,  worn,  perhaps,  as  some  moderns  wear  a 
charm,  and  always  buried  with  the  dead.  On  the  faces 
of  the  earthen  or  stone  scarabasi  are  often  found  inscrip- 
tions— either  the  name  of  the  king  in  whose  reign  it  was 
made,  or  of  the  person,  or  of  some  religious  object.  Thus 
a scarabffius  often  determines  the  age  of  a mummy ; and 
the  curious  in  this  subject  will  be  interested  in  Dr.  Ab- 


224 


SUMMARY  PROCEEDINGS. 


bott’s  collection,  on  seeing  the  small  and  beautiful  mum- 
my of  a female  which  stands  there,  to  learn  that  from  its 
broken  case  a scarabceus  fell,  marked  'udth  the  name  of 
Thothmes  III.,  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus. 

I found  the  beads  and  the  scarabseus  in  a mass  at  his 
feet,  but  there  was  no  vestige  of  the  threads  that  had 
formed  the  shawl.  Gathering  nearly  a quart  of  them,  I 
examined  the  localities  of  his  feet  and  head  and  breast  for 
other  antiques.  Alas ! feet  and  head  were  gone.  Some 
plunderer  like  me,  less  scrupulous  than  I,  had  cut  them 
off  and  carried  them  away,  and  the  breast — a huge  fissure 
was  where  his  breast  had  been,  and  vacancy — nothing 
more. 

Miriam  and  I sat  over  him,  Avhile  an  Arab  attendant, 
sent  by  the  governor,  sat  at  a little  distance,  growling 
and  grumbling  at  a furious  rate.  I paid  no  attention  to 
it,  but  Mohammed  Hassan,  one  of  our  sailors,  who  is  our 
constant  attendant  when  on  shore,  and  who  was  helping 
me  to  overhaul  the  priest  of  old  time,  took  careful  notes 
of  all  the  fellow’s  remarks,  which  were  far  from  compli- 
mentary. I did  not  think  that  Mohammed  observed  it, 
but  on  leaving  the  temple  I passed  the  governor’s  diwan, 
which  was  near  the  exit.  I exchanged  a few  words  with 
him,  and  went  on,  but  missing  Mohammed,  I turned  back 
to  find  him.  Imagine  my  surprise  at  seeing  the  Arab 
on  his  back  before  the  governor,  his  feet  upturned  to  | 

the  tenth  blow,  as  I arrived  to  put  a sto]3  to  it.  Moham- 
med had  pocketed  all  the  insults  on  my  account,  and  j^ro- 
duced  them  seriatim  to  the  governor  after  I had  gone 
by,  and  the  governor  had  proceeded,  in  the  summary 
manner  to  which  the  Turks  are  accustomed,  to  administer 
the  ordinary  form  of  punishment.  A great  nation  that ! 

The  scene  j^resented  on  the  shore  near  our  boat  was 
curious  and  amusing.  I believe  I have  heretofore  men- 
tioned the  custom  of  the  modern  Egyptians  of  shaving 


MEDICAL  TREATMENT. 


225 


their  heads.  One  might  imagine  it  to  have  originated  in 
some  ideas  of  cleanliness,  were  it  not  for  the  amount  of 
filth  and  the  number  of  vermin  found  elsewhere  on  their 
persons.  While  we  were  at  the  temple  the  men  had  sent 
for  a barber,  and  he  came  down  to  the  boat,  bringing  his 
instruments  with  him,  and  on  our  return  we  found  them 
seated  in  a row  undergoing  the  shaving  process. 

In  this,  as  in  so  many  other  of  the  customs  of  the 
modern  Egyptians,  we  find  the  ancient  usage  still  pre- 
served. In  one  of  the  tombs  at  Beni  Hassan  is  a repre- 
sentation of  a barber  at  his  work,  which  has  been,  not  un- 
naturally, mistaken  for  a doctor  and  his  patient.  Whether 
the  same  efiect  is  produced  by  the  same  process  in  mod- 
ern Egypt  as  in  ancient,  I am  unable  to  say.  Herodotus 
tells  us  that  it  hardened  their  skulls,  and  in  this  respect 
contrasts  them  with  the  Persians.  I have  never  seen  men 
so  suscej^tible  to  the  influence  of  a hot  sun  as  were  the 
sailors  on  our  boat.  There  was  scarcely  a day  in  which 
there  was  not  one  or  more  of  them  on  his  back  from  the 
effects  of  it,  and  the  effects  of  the  treatment  he  received 
from  his  fellows  by  way  of  medical  assistance. 

I was  astonished  one  afternoon  at  finding  Yusef,  one  of 
the  crew,  administering  a severe  pounding  to  Hassan 
Hegazi,  another ; and,  on  inquiry,  learned  that  it  was 
medical  treatment  for  a stroke  of  the  sun.  He  pommeled 
him  terribly  about  the  shoulders  and  breast.  Then  he 
pulled  his  two  ears  nearly  out  of  his  head,  laid  him  down 
on  one  side  and  filled  his  ear  with  salt  and  water,  and 
shook  his  head  to  shake  it  in,  pulled  his  ears  again,  then 
seized  him  by  the  solitary  scalp-lock  on  his  head,  and 
twisting  it  severely,  gathered  his  hands  around  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  rubbing  them  forward  as  if  he  were 
scraping  the  disease  off  from  the  surface  to  the  forehead, 
he  suddenly  bit  off  the  imaginary  lump  of  illness  which 
he  had  collected,  and  pronounced  the  patient  cured.  Per- 

10* 


226 


DONKEY  TRADE. 


haps  he  was,  but  Yusef  had  j^ounded  him  into  a fever,  of 
which  I had  to  cure  him.  And  he  did  not  thank  me  for 
it,  but  did  attribute  his  final  recovery  to  Yusef  s nonsense. 

Esne  was  the  last  point  on  the  passage  up  the  river  at 
which  the  men  might  bake  bread,  and  here  they  laid  in  a 
supply  to  last  them  to  the  second  cataract  and  back  again. 

After  two  days  of  delay,  we  were  ready  to  be  away ; 
and  now,  think  of  my  surprise  at  finding  myself  in  a new 
trade.  I never  imagined  that  I should  be  in  the  donkey 
line ; but  Abd-el-Atti  was  very  desirous  of  procuring  a 
good  donkey,  and  Esne  is  the  best  point  on  the  river  for 
those  useful  animals.  Abd-el-Atti  might  have  looked  in 
vain  for  a donkey  to  suit  him,  but  the  Howajji,  with  the 
firman  of  the  viceroy,  was  another  sort  of  person,  and  he 
begged  me  therefore,  on  his  account,  to  write  to  the  resid- 
ent governor  at  Esne,  and  direct  him  to  have  in  readiness 
on  our  return  a number  of  first-class  donkeys,  from  which 
we  should  select  one  that  might  suit  us.  I consented, 
and  the  order  was  despatched,  and  his  excellency  did  me 
the  honor  to  assure  me  in  reply  that  it  should  receive  his 
profound  consideration  and  devoted  attention,  or  words 
to  that  effect  in  Arabic  diplomacy. 


Suijiiig  fliitlquea. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  bread  was 
brought  on  board,  and  the  shaving  operation  being  fin- 
ished, Hassabo  resumed  his  position  at  the  tiller,  and  the 
men  shook  out  the  sail,  and  pushed  off  from  the  shore. 
The  wind  was  fresh,  and  the  foam  dashed  up  before  us  as 
the  crew  gathered  on  deck  near  the  mast,  and  sang  to  the 
music  of  the  darahooJca^  which  is  but  an  earthern  jar, 
over  the  large  end  of  which  a skin,  or  the  loose  bag  of  a 
pelican’s  bill  is  stretched.  So  with  a long  chorus  and  a 
lively  repeat,  and  an  occasional  shout  of  “ Allah  !”  (for 
they  are  profane  dogs,  those  Mohammedans,  though 
commonly  called  religious)  we  were  again  off  on  our 
voyage. 

Above  Esne  the  game  on  the  river  became  more  plen- 
tiful, and  I devoted  myself  to  it  with  considerable  zeal. 
Pelicans  abounded,  especially  on  Sundays,  when  we  did 
not  shoot.  Every  one  knows  that  an  American  crow 
is  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  succession  of  days,  and 
the  return  of  the  seventh  brings  him  down  with  fearless 
boldness  on  the  cornfield.  It  would  be  difficult  to  sup- 
pose that  in  this  worse  than  heathen  land,  where  the  Sab- 
bath is  unknown,  the  birds  keep  the  run  of  the  day ; and 
yet  it  was  a stubborn  fact  that  every  Sunday  on  the  river, 
the  game  was  not  only  more  plentiful  than  on  other  days, 
but  approached  the  boat  as  fearlessly  as  if  the  animals 


228 


EILEITHY AS. 


knew  that  we  kept  the  day  of  rest.  One  Sunday  evening 
a flight  of  quite  two  hundred  pelicans  sailed  around  us, 
and  lit  at  length  on  a sand-bank  close  by  our  boat,  and 
within  a near  gun-shot. 

But  whether  or  not  the  animals  and  the  inhabitants 
know  the  Sabbath  day,  I do  verily  believe  that  the  land 
knows  it,  and  the  winds  and  the  sky.  Beautiful  as  they 
are  on  other  days,  calm  and  clear  as  are  the  skies,  they 
have,  nevertheless,  on  this  day  a glory  and  a quiet  that  I 
can  not  describe,  except  by  saying  that  it  is  like  a Sab- 
bath morning  at  home  in  the  country,  and  the  air  like 
that  still,  soft  air  that  a summer  Sunday  morning  brings 
in  at  the  open  windows  of  the  church  on  the  green  ; and 
no  heart  can  fail  to  keep  in  unison  with  sun  and  sky  on 
such  a day. 

We  enter  the  sand-stone  country  now,  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  hills  along  the  river  totally  changes. 
They  slope  away  from  the  banks,  leaving  their  sides  and 
bases  covered  with  immense  boulders.  The  country  is 
narrower,  and  cultivation  is  becoming  more  difiicult. 

The  day  after  we  left  Esne  I shot  a pelican  from  the 
boat  with  a pistol-ball ; and  the  same  afternoon,  while  on 
shore  after  pigeons,  I found  myself  close  on  a flock  of 
wild  geese  before  I knew  it,  and  got  one  of  them  with 
each  barrel  as  they  flew  away.  They  proved  to  be  the 
best  we  had  found  on  the  river.  Their  color  was  pre- 
cisely like  our  common  American  tame  goose,  white  and 
lead-color  mingled.  That  night  we  slept  at  El  Kdb^  the 
site  of  the  ancient  Eileithyas,  and  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing points  on  the  river. 

Waking  early  in  the  morning,  I sprang  ashore  and  up 
the  bank,  to  find  where  we  were.  The  plain  stretches 
away  two  miles  to  the  mountains,  in  parts  of  it  much 
more.  Only  the  edge  of  the  river  is  cultivated ; the 
rest  of  the  broad  level  is  a sand  and  gravel  barren,  ex- 


COST  OF  ANTIQUES. 


229 


tending  up  and  down  the  river  some  ten  miles.  The  site 
of  the  ancient  city  was  considerably  to  the  north  of  the 
point  at  which  we  lay,  and  I saw  at  the  base  of  the  hill 
the  modern  village,  toward  which  I immediately  deter- 
mined to  direct  my  way. 

My  object  was  simply  to  purchase  antiques,  which  the 
fellahs  who  cultivate  this  plain  find  in  large  quantities. 

I have  already  warned  the  traveler  against  the  frauds  of 
the  antique  manufacturers  at  Thebes  or  Luxor.  It  is  easy 
to  imagine  how  important  the  business  of  purchasing  curi- 
osities has  become  in  Egyj^t.  Hundreds  of  travelers  going 
up  and  down  the  river  demand  them  wherever  they  stop  ; 
and  the  natives,  who  formerly  thought  of  them  as  trifles, 
have  now  begun  to  learn  their  value.  The  scarabseus, 
which  is  usually  more  highly  valued  than  any  other  of  the 
small  antiques,  on  account  of  its  possessing  a religious  in- 
terest, as  well  as  because  it  usually  bears  a name  on  its 
face,  was  formerly  sold  at  a few  paras,  while  now  it  com-  , 
mands  from  five  piastres  to  a dollar,  according  to  its  style 
and  preservation.  Other  and  larger  antiques  bear  pro- 
portionate prices,  and  there  is  no  limit  to  the  demands 
of  an  Arab  who  finds  a gold  ring  or  a jewel.  There  are 
plenty  of  foolish  Howajjis  who  will  pay  him  ten  times  its 
value  for  it,  and  he  knows  this  well  enough  to  wait  for 
a purchaser,  who  is  sure  to  come  in  time.  But  there  is 
really  no  necessity  whatever  for  paying  such  prices  as 
these,  and  the  knowing  traveler  will  never  be  deceived 
by  a modern,  or  in  the  price  of  an  antique.  I very  soon 
learned  at  Luxor  that  the  Copt  was  not  to  be. deluded 
into  parting  with  any  of  his  stores  at  their  fair  price ; but 
that  by  stealthily  asking  every  Arab,  fellah,  or  boy,  and 
especially  every  woman  that  I met,  if  they  had  antiques  * 
or  coins  or  scarabaii,  I frequently  found  them,  and  pur- 
chased them  for  mere  trifles.  Thus  at  Karnak  I bought 
a scarabseus  for  a piastre  and  five  paras,  for  which  the 


230 


BUYING  ANTIQUES. 


Copt  oiFered  me  ten  piastres  the  same  day,  and  told  Mus- 
tapha  that  he  would  readily  give  a dollar,  to  sell  it  for 
two. 

I had  learned  from  Abd-el-Atti  that  El  Kab  was  a fa- 
vorable place  for  such  purchases,  as  the  village  lay  four 
miles  from  the  site  of  the  ancient  city,  and  hence  no  trav- 
elers are  apt  to  visit  it.  I started  at  sunrise  across  the 
plain,  hailing  every  Arab  that  I met  Avith  the  usual  ques- 
tion, “ Mafish  goouran,  mafish  gedid,  anteeka  ?”  (Have 
you  no  scarabseus,  or  coins,  or  antiques  ?)  Abd-el-Atti  ac- 
companied me,  and  Ave  made  the  same  demand  on  each 
side,  picking  up  small  affaii'S  here  and  there,  until  Ave 
reached  the  village,  Avhich  AA^as  on  a rocky  mound  near 
an  isolated  mass  of  stone  that  had  been  left  from  the 
ancient  quarrying. 

Here,  seating  myself  on  the  ground  in  an  open  space 
among  the  mud  houses,  I dispatched  every  boy  and 
Avoman  I could  find  to  call  up  their  friends  and  tell 
them  to  bring  me  whateA^er  they  had  in  the  way  of  an- 
tiques. In  a feAV  minutes  I Avas  surrounded  by  the 
men,  women,  and  children  of  El  Kab,  in  all  the  A^arious 
degrees  of  nakedness,  and  all  in  one  state  of  filth.  The 
nameless  vermin  that  I found  on  me  after  that  expedition 
were  intensely  disgusting.  The  animals  themselves  par- 
took of  the  filthy  appearance,  as  Avell  as  the  dark  color  of 
the  skins  they  had  fed  on. 

Kaked  children  presented  handsfull  of  pieces  of  ancient 
pottery,  or  coins,  or  broken  images  of  gods  and  sacred 
objects.  Women  leaned  doAvn  to  show  their  necklaces, 
on  which  were  strung  beads  and  scarabsei,  and  pieces  of 
agate  and  cornelian,  cut  into  strange  shapes  known  only 
in  old  mythology.  A small  coin  satisfied  the  most  anx- 
ious of  them ; and  they  expressed  aloud  their  regret  that 
they  had  sold  a great  many — all  that  they  had — a few 
Aveeks  before  to  the  Copt  from  Luxor,  Avho  had  been  up 


BUYING  ANTIQUES. 


231 


here  on  a purchasing  expedition.  They  said  I gave  them 
twice'  what  he  did.  They  had  nothing  .that  was  very 
valuable,  for  this  reason,  and  what  they  had  were  what 
had  been  found  within  a few  days.  Some  scarabaei,  two 
or  three  small  vases  for  toilet  purposes,  and  one  ring  of 
the  time  of  Amunoph  III.,  the  Memnon  of  Thebes — or, 
rather,  him  whose  statue  is  called  that  of  Memnon — and 
a handful  of  coins,  and  curious  small  images  and  earthen 
objects  were  all  that  I obtained. 

One  very  curious  antique  which  I picked  up  here,  was 
a die,  of  ivory,  resembling  modern  dice  in  all  respects  but 
one.  The  well-known  power  of  the  die,  which  is  com- 
monly called  seven,  from  the  fact  that  the  sum  of  the  0]> 
posite  sides  is  always  seven,  and  out  of  twenty  throws  of 
a pair  the  average  result  will  be  seven  to  a throw  or  very 
near  it,  was  in  this  instance  lost.  The  ace  was  not  op- 
posite to  the  six  nor  the  two  to  the  five. 

The  crowd  became  thicker  and  more  noisy.  One  man 
was  loud  in  his  remarks  which  were  not  complimentary 
to  the  Howajji.  I paid  no  attention  to  him  but,  continued 
my  purchases.  The  press  increased,  and  when  at  length 
a half  naked  woman  with  a quite  naked  baby  in  her  arms, 
tumbled  over  my  feet  and  almost  into  my  embrace,  to  the 
detriment  of  my  personal  feehngs,  and  the  baby’s  as  well, 
I rose  and  decamped  leaving  the  crowd  in  glorious  con- 
fusion over  a half  dozen  coppers  that  I scattered  among 
them. 

The  sheik,  I have  forgotten  his  name,  but  the  chances 
are  that  if  it  was  not  Achmet  it  was  Mohammed,  was 
w’aiting  for  me  at  the  upper  end  of  the  village  where  he 
knew  I must  pass  in  going  out,  and  had  two  horses  ready 
saddled  for  me  and  my  servant.  He  knew  that  the  boat 
had  gone  on  so  far  that  to  attempt  to  overtake  it  on  foot 
W’as  out  of  the  question.  I accepted  his  offer  wdth  grati- 
tude, and  was  preparing  to  mount,  when  a tremendous 


232 


AN  ARAB  HORSE. 


row  arrested  my  attention.  Some  twenty  or  thirty  of  the 
villagers  were  approaching,  vociferating  a demand  for 
more  backsheesh,  based  on  the  fact  that  they  had  failed 
in  getting  any  of  my  scattering.  Foremost  among  them 
was  the  huge  rascal  who  had  been  personal  in  his  re- 
marks. He  came  to  a sorrowful  fate.  Abd-el-Atti  seized 
him  by  the  back  of  the  neck  and  walked  him  up  to  the 
sheik.  He  was  strong  enough  to  throw  the  dragoman 
over  the  sheik’s  head,  no  hard  job,  indeed,  for  the  sheik 
was  lamentably  small,  but  the  big  fellow  walked  up  to 
him  with  sufficient  humility  and  my  astonishment  was 
immense  when  the  little  sheik  ordered  him  to  be  laid 
down  on  his  face  and  administered  to  his  back  about  thirty 
blows  of  a tolerably  large  cane.  Up  to  this  moment  I liad 
not,  in  the  confusion  of  tongues,  understood  what  it  was 
about,  but  now  the  thrashed  man  rushed  up  to  me  and 
attempted  to  seize  my  hand  with  a view  to  defile  it  with 
his  dirty  lips,  a ceremony  which  I always  preferred  to 
have  honored  in  the  breach. 

The  sheik  renewed  his  profier  of  the  horses.  One  of 
them  was  wicked-looking  but  a magnificent  animal,  and 
stood  eyeing  the  crowd  with  furious  countenance,  while 
two  Arabs  held  him  by  the  nose. 

I advanced  to  mount,  and  set  my  foot  on  the  shovel 
stirrup.  A shovel  stirrup  is — a shovel  stirrup  ; nothing 
else;  a flat  shovel  of  iron,  sides  turned  up,  and  four 
sharp  jDoints  turned  out,  on  which  the  whole  foot  rests. 

The  Arabs  ride  with  short  stirrup-straps,  and  knees  up  to 
their  chins.  As  I touched  the  stirrup  it  touched  his  side, 
and — presto — his  heels  flew  into  the  crowd  behind  him, 
and  Abd-el-Atti,  struck  full  on  the  breast,  went  a rod  back- 
ward, and  howled  as  if  Sathanas  himself  had  struck  him. 
I never  saw  a horse’s  heels  fly  so  fast  and  so  many  ways 
at  once.  I vanished  through  the  open  doors  of  the  near- 
est mud  hut,  and  found  myself  in  the  hareem  of  a worthy 


A LEAP,  AND  AWAY! 


233 


of  El  Kab,  among  all  sorts  of  women  and  children,  in  all 
sorts  of  dresses  and  no  dresses.  When  I looked  out  the 
scene  was  more  quiet.  Abd-el-Atti  was  moaning  and  groan- 
in  o*.  The  sheik  was  looking  in  horror  of  mind  for  the 
vanished  Howajji,  and  Avondering  if  he  were  really  an- 
nihilated by  the  furious  animal,  whom  the  two  Arabs  still 
held  by  the  nose,  around  which  one  of  them  had  twisted 
a halter. 

I glanced  at  the  saddle-girths  and  the  reins.  They  did 
not  look  over  strong,  but  I resolved  to  risk  them.  I had 
boasted  from  childhood  that  no  horse  had  ever  mastered 
or  thrown  me,  and  I Avas  unAvilling  to  give  up  the  at- 
tempt on  this  wild  specimen  of  the  Prophet’s  own  breed. 

My  precipitate  retreat  had  not  given  my  Arabian 
friends  any  exalted  ideas  of  my  courage,  but  they  did 
not  appreciate  as  fully  as  I that  I had  not  come  to  Egypt 
to  ha\'e  my  brains  kicked  out  by  a horse,  and  that  dis- 
cretion is  sometimes  valor.  I shouted  to  them  noAV  to 
clear  the  Avay,  and  with  a short  run  Avent  mto  the  saddle. 
It  had  a back-board  eight  inches  high,  and  a short  post 
or  handle  four  inches  high  from  the  pommel.  It  was  no 
small  operation  to  settle  myself  between  these  two  in  the 
short  space  of  time  alloAved.  As  I struck  the  saddle  the 
Arabs  flung  him  off,  and  went  rolling  heels  OA^er  head  as 
they  scattered  out  of  the  way  of  the  first  plunge. 

It  was  a magnificent  leap ; another,  and  we  were  out 
of  the  village,  a third  and  we  Avere  at  full  speed  on 
the  plain  AAdiich  stretched  away  five  miles,  a dead,  hard 
level  of  gravel,  Avithout  a break  or  a blade  of  grass.  For 
twenty  rods  the  pace  was  tremendous.  The  peculiarity 
of  an  Arab  horse  is  that  he  is  at  full  speed  on  the  third 
leap.  I became  alarmed  at  the  first,  and  checked  him 
Avith  a sharp  rein.  He  came  doAAui  in  a heap,  nearly 
throAvn,  and  nearly  pitching  me  OA^er  his  head.  After  try- 
ing this  once  or  tAvice  more,  I learned  that  he  would  not 


234 


RAIN  IN  EGYPT. 


bear  the  liglitest  drawing  on  the  rein.  Then  I talked  to 
him,  and  for  a wonder 'he  understood  my  Arabic,  and 
then  we  began  to  understand  each  other,  and,  at  length, 
went  along  at  an  easy  gallop  over  the  plain  toward  the 
ancient  city  of  Eileithyas.  I saw'  nothing  more  of  Abd-el- 
Atti  till  I reached  the  boat.  He  w'as  entirely  distanced. 

The  site  of  the  old  city  is  still  surrounded  by  the  crude 
brick  w'all  w'hich  incloses  the  ruined  brick  houses,  and  the 
remains  of  stone  temples  and  palaces  that  w'ere  once  the 
habitations  of  men,  but  are  now  the  homes  of  W'olves  and 
jackals. 

The  size,  height,  and  thickness  of  this  wall  are  a source 
of  astonishment  to  the  stranger,  and  illustrate  the  re- 
marks I had  occasion  to  make  in  a former  chapter,  on  the 
subject  of  the  enduring  nature  of  crude,  unburned  brick 
in  this  country.  This  is  the  more  astonishing  wdien  one 
is  informed,  that  the  common  story  that  it  never  rains  in 
Egypt  is  entirely  destitute  of  truth,  a remark  exempli- 
fied by  the  fact  that  I have  seen  on  the  E’ile,  sixty  miles 
above  Cairo,  as  hard  a rain-shower  as  one  is  apt  to  see 
in  America.  It  is  true  that  this  is  not  a frequent  oc- 
currence, but  there  is  more  or  less  of  rain  in  Upper 
and  Lower  Egypt  every  year,  and  mountain-torrents  are 
formed  that  have  left  their  dry  rocky  beds  in  every 
ravine  on  the  side  of  the  Nile.  And  through  these 
storms,  for  thousands  of  years,  the  brick  W’alls  have 
stood,  decaying,  indeed,  but  massive  yet,  and  are  likely 
to  outlast  the  storms  of  thousands  more,  if  they  are  not 
carried  aw^ay  by  the  Arabs  ; for  the  only  manure  I have 
seen  applied  to  land  in  Upper  Egypt  is  the  old  dust  of 
ancient  brick  w^alls.  These  they  dig  dowm,  and  loading 
panniers  on  donkeys  wdth  the  dust,  scatter  it  on  the 
plains,  to  add  richness  to  the  soil,  which  is  not  sufiSciently 
enriched  by  the  overflow  of  the  river. 

Leaving  the  tombs  to  be  visited  hereafter,  I rode 


LIZARDS. 


235 


around  the  wall,  and  overtook  the  bo,at  three  miles 
above.  At  the  instant  of  approaching  it  I saw  three  or 
four  large  lizards  in  the  river,  much  like  a crocodile  in 
appearance,  but  destitute  of  scales.  I shot  one,  and 
Abd-el-Atti  another.  The  one  measured  four  feet  eight 
inches  in  length,  the  other  three  feet  six.  These  are  the 
monitor  lizard,  I suppose,  celebrated  as  the  enemy  of  the 
crocodile,  whom  they  destroy  by  crawling  into  his  open 
mouth  and  down  his  throat,  whence  they  eat  thek  way 
out  through  the  animal  and  destroy  him, 

A picture  of  the  scene  on  shore  that  evening  was  worth 
preserving.  We  lay  at  the  bank,  near  a small  village 
called  Kella^  and  as  usual  a guard  was  sent  down  to 
watch  the  boat,  lest  robbers  should  make  free  with  our 
property,  and  we  should  thereupon  hold  the  village  re- 
sponsible. 

The  guard  spread  their  dark  boornooses  on  the  ground 
and  slept  profoundly.  I glanced  out  of  the  window  late 
in  the  evening,  and  saw  Ferraj  and  Hahfa  busy,  with  ear- 
nest countenances  flashing  in  the  light  of  a lantern,  over 
the  bodies  of  the  lizards,  which  they  were  skinning  for 
preservation. 


22^ 

£ S f 0 n- 

Mohammed  Hassan  had  been  sent  on  from  El  Kab  to 
Edfou  to  order  sundry  provisions  that  were  necessary, 
and  especially  charcoal,  which  we  could  not  obtain  above 
here.  In  the  morning  after  leaving  El  Kab  when  I awoke 
I saw  a group  of  horses  on  the  bank,  keeping  along  with 
the  boat,  which  was  tracking  slowly.  It  appeared  that 
the  governor  had  sent  them  down  for  us  to  ride  up  to 
Edfou  in  advance  of  the  boat ; and  accepting  them  will- 
ingly, I mounted  one  and  was  off  over  the  fields,  attended 
by  Abd-el-Atti  and  the  governor’s  messenger. 

We  rode  some  two  miles  through  the  fields  of  doura, 
now  leaping  the  trenches,  through  which  the  Kile  water 
ran  over  the  fields,  and  now  pushing  our  way  through 
the  standing  corn,  until  at  length  we  struck  the  dry  bed 
of  a canal,  full  only  at  very  high  Kile,  and  followed  this 
up  to  the  village,  high  over  which  we  saw  the  lofty  propy- 
lon towers  of  the  vast  temple. 

Speaking  of  horses ; as  we  rode  along,  one  of  the  gov- 
ernor’s officers  told  me  a story  of  an  old  sheik  of  the 
Bedouins  that  I have  seen  in  print  in  two  or  three  forms, 
but  never  precisely  in  this : ^ 

He  was  old  and  poor.  The  latter  virtue  is  common  to 
his  race.  He  owned  a tent,  a Kubian  slave,  and  a mare; 
nothing  else.  The  mare  was  the  fleetest  animal  on  the 


A DESERT  MARE. 


237 


desert.  From  the  Nile  to  the  Euphrates,  fame  of  this 
animal  had  gone  out,  and  kings  had  sought  in  vain  to 
own  her.  The  love  of  a Bedouin  for  his  horse  is  not  that 
fabled  affection  that  we  read  of  in  books.  This  love  is 
the  same  affection  that  an  American  nabob  has  for  his 
gold,  or  rather  that  a poor  laborer  has  for  his  day’s 
wages.  His  horse  is  his  life.  He  can  rob,  plunder  kill, 
and  destroy  ad  libitum  if  he  have  a fleet  steed.  If  he 
have  none,  he  can  do  nothing,  but  is  the  prey  of  every  one 
who  has.  Acquisition  is  a prominent  feature  of  Arab 
character,  but  accumulation  is  not  found  in  the  brain  of  a 
son  of  Ishmael.  The  reason  is  obvious.  If  he  have  wealth 
he  has  nowhere  to  keep  it.  He  would  be  robbed  in  a 
night.  He  would,  indeed,  have  no  desire  to  keep  it ; for 
the  Bedouin  who  murders  you  for  a shawl,  or  a belt,  or 
some  gay  trapping,  will  give  it  away  the  next  day. 

Living  this  wandering  life,  the  old  sheik  was  rich  in 
this  one  mare,  which  was  acknowledged  to  be  the  fleet- 
est horse  in  Arabia. 

Ibrahim  Pasha  wished  the  animal,  as  his  father  had 
-wished  her  before  him.  He  sent  various  offers  to  the  old 
sheik,  but  in  vain.  At  length  he  sent  a deputation,  with 
flve  hundred  purses  (a  purse  is  five  pounds),  and  the  old 
man  laughed  at  them. 

“ Then,”  said  Ibrahim  Pasha,  “ I will  take  your  mare.” 

“ Try  it.” 

He  sent  a regiment  into  the  desert,  and  the  sheik  rode 
around  them,  and  laughed  at  them,  and  the  regiment 
came  home. 

At  last  the  sheik  died  from  a -wound  received  in  a fray 
with  a neighboring  tribe.  Hying  he  gave  to  his  Nubian 
slave  all  that  he  had — this  priceless  mare — and  the  duties 
of  the  blood  revenge. 

The  faithful  slave  accepted  both,  and  has  ever  since 
been  the  terror  of  the  eastern  desert.  Yearly  he  comes 


238 


TEMPLE  AT  EDFOU. 


down  like  a hawk  on  the  tents  of  that  devoted  tribe,  and 
leaves  a ball  or  a lance  in  man  or  woman.  No  amount 
of  blood  satiates  his  revenge ; and  the  mare  and  the  black 
rider  are  as  celebrated  in  Arabia  as  the  wild  huntsman 
in  European  forests,  and  much  better  known. 

But  one  incident  interrupted  our  morning  ride.  We 
met  two  tall  men  riding  on  one  miserable  donkey,  and 
held  a temporary  court  to  inquire  into  the  proper  punish- 
ment that  should  be  administered  in  the  case.  It  was 
decided  that  they  should  be  made  to  carry  the  donkey ; 
but  the  donkey  Avouldn’t  be  carried,  until  I made  one  of 
them  tie  his  legs  together,  and  take  him  up,  sheep  fash- 
ion, on  his  shoulders,  with  the  legs  before  him.  After 
they  had  each  carried  him  a hundred  yards,  we  dismissed 
them  with  a lecture  and  rode  on  to  Edfou. 

Old  Suleiman — that  was  his  name — every  body  was 
named  Mohammed,  or  Selim,  or  Suleiman,  or  Abdallah, 
or  some  derivative  of  one  of  these  names — old  Suleiman, 
the  governor  of  Edfou,  was  not  at  the  temple.  He  had 
an  idea,  perhaps,  that  I would  ride  to  his  house  and  w^ait 
on  him ; but  I had  a temple  in  my  eye  that  shut  out  all 
governors  and  governors’  houses. 

I rode  around  the  rear  of  the  temple,  followed  by  my 
train,  which  had  now  increased  to  a larger  number,  and 
dismounted  on  the  top  of  the  inclosing  wall  of  the  grand 
court,  for  the  earth  was  banked  up  to  this  height  on  the 
west  side.  Entering  the  stairway  of  the  great  tower 
west  of  the  grand  door  of  the  temple,  I forbade  any  hu- 
man foot  to  follow  me,  for  I was  tired  out  by  the  Arabic 
gabble,  and  climbed,  lonesome,  and  sole  possessor  for 
the  time,  that  grand  propylon.  At  length,  coming  out 
on  the  lofty  summit,  I threw  myself  down  on  the  vast 
stones  that  crown  its  top,  gazing  in  silence  and  profound 
awe  on  the  court,  and  corridors,  and  temple  below  me. 

Where,  where  are  they  now?  Hackneyed  old  ques- 


A FUNERAL. 


239 


tion,  indeed,  but  I tell  you,  man,  that  when  you  stand  on 
the  tower  of  the  temple  at  Edfou,  or  in  the  awful  hall  of 
Karnak,  you  will  ask  the  question  with  new  and  over- 
whelming interest.  Gone ! gone ! and  whither  ? Where 
are  the  men,  when  their  works  stand  here  sublime  ? Where 
are  the  maidens,  when  their  voices  have  not  ceased  to  echo 
here  in  choral  hymns  ? Where  are  the  worshipers,  when 
the  gods  sit  yet  on  their  seats,  and  the  altars  wait  the 
kindling  of  the  fire  and  the  victims  ? 

It  was  a golden  morning.  The  sunlight  lay  like  a 
dream  on  the  Nile  valley.  Five  miles  down  the  river  I 
saw  the  fiag  of  the  Phantom  slowly  tracking  up  the 
stream,  which  approaches  within  about  a mile  of  the  vil- 
lage and  temple. 

After  a little  I saw  the  governor  and  his  suite  approach- 
ing the  temple  through  a street  or  lane  m the  mud  village 
W'hich  reached  up  to  the  front  of  the  propylon,  and  after  I 
had  finished  my  inspection  of  the  country  I descended  to 
the  court  where  he  was  waiting  me. 

Suleiman  w^as  a hard-looking  old  Turk,  much  the  w^orse 
for  wear  and  arrakee.  When  I came  back  to  Edfou  I 
found  where  he  got  his  arrakee,  but  of  that  hereafter. 
He  was  attended  by  a one-eyed  scribe,  an  eight-fingered 
cawass,  and  half  a dozen  minor  officials.  I was  obliged 
to  walk  down  into  town  with  the  old  fellow,  and  to  his 
seat  of  justice,  a bench  in  an  archway  on  the  side  of  the 
only  niosk  at  Edfou.  I sat  on  his  bench  awhile,  drank 
two  or  three  cups  of  cofiTee,  and  smoked  a chibouk,  and 
then,  very  fortunately  for  my  purposes,  a funeral  proces- 
sion came  up  into  the  open  square  before  the  mbsk,  and 
the  loud  Avails  of  the  w^omen  droAvned  all  conA^ersation 
and  afforded  me  a chance  to  escape. 

It  Avas  the  funeral  of  a child,  who  w^as  carried  on  an 
open  bier,  and  followed  by  seventy-five  or  a hundred  wom- 
en. Fresh  mourners  poured  in  from  eA^ery  corner  and 


240 


DIED  OF  A DEVIL. 


byway  and  joined  them.  Each  one  as  she  came  walked 
up  to  the  mother  of  the  cliild,  placing  one  hand  tenderly 
on  her  head  and  pressed  the  forehead  gently  to  the  fore- 
head of  the  old  woman,  and  then  looked  in  her  face  and 
uttered  a low  w^ail,  to  which  the  mother  answered. 

The  latter  was  a tall,  gaunt  woman,  with  one  of  those 
faces  of  Egyptian  old  women,  utter  abject  woe  incarnate. 
She  carried  in  her  hand  a stick  seven  feet  long,  which  she 
used  by  way  of  support  as  she  stalked  back  and  forth  in 
the  square,  exchanging  those  mournful  salutations  and 
uttering  loud  laments  and  praises  of  her  dead  boy. 

“ Is  it  a boy  I inquired  of  the  one-eyed  scribe  of  the 
governor,  as  the  face  of  the  child,  calm  and  unearthly,  as 
are  the  faces  of  all  dead  children,  passed  my  seat  after 
the  procession  went  around  the  square  twice  or  three 
times. 

“Yes;  and  he  died  of  a devil.” 

“ Of  a devil  ?” 

“Yes;  he  was  well,  playing  about  the  house,  and  he 
suddenly  sprang  up  and  spat  on  the  ground,  and  fell  down 
dead.” 

“ He  choked,  did  he  not  ?” 

“No,  it  was  a devil;  a devil  entered  into  him  and 
killed  him.” 

So  be  it,  thought  I.  It  will  do  you  no  good  to  argue 
the  matter.  I told  the  governor  I was  minded  to  follow 
the  funeral  and  see  the  burial ; and  as  this  was  out  of  his 
line  and  quite  beneath  his  dignity,  he  let  me  go,  and  I 
mounted  my  horse  again  and  joined  the  procession,  which 
now  left  the  village  and  wound  around  the  rear  of  the 
temple.  Here  I deserted  the  funeral,  rode  back  to  the 
sunny  side  of  the  temple,  and,  dismounting,  sat  down  in 
the  dust  of  old  and  modern  Egypt  and  called  for  antiques. 
In  five  minutes  I was  surrounded  by  a motley  crowd,  of 
various  colors,  and  chiefly  naked.  One  girl,  a well-shaped 


A FAST  GALLOP. 


241 


ohlld  of  ten  or  eleven,  improved  on  the  general  style  of  un- 
dress  by  having  a single  string  of  beads  around  her  Avaist. 
Nothing  else  on  her  from  head  to  foot.  Her  appearance 
Avas  novel  if  not  picturesque. 

I bought  the  usual  quantities  of  trinkets  and  coins,  and 
one  very  beautiful  A^ase,  or  plate,  of  clear,  translucent 
stone,  much  like  an  agate,  but  not  so  hard,  A\uth  tAvo 
cupids  holding  a heart  betAveen  them.  It  Avas  as  modern 
as  possible  in  design,  but  I had  sufficient  evidence  of  its 
antiquity  in  the  place  and  the  price. 

The  sheik  of  the  field  men,  that  is  of  the  agricultural 
part  of  the  community,  Avho  could  ahvays  control  the  dis- 
coA^eries  of  antiques,  promised  me  to  preserA^e  any  neAV 
treasures  that  might  be  dug  up  until  my  return,  and  haA”- 
ing  exhausted  the  stock  on  hand,  I remounted  and  rode 
through  the  toAvn  again,  to  go  doAAm  to  the  river  and  re- 
join the  Phantom. 

Suleiman  Avas  Avaiting  for  me.  The  Avily  old  felloAv 
Avas  not  to  be  baulked  of  a bottle  of  brandy,  AA’hich  ho 
made  sure  he  Avould  receive  if  he  hung  on,  and  he  fell  in 
behind  me  on  the  Avay  to  the  boat. 

I gave  him  a run  of  it.  His  politeness  made  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  keep  up  Avith  me,  and  I gave  the  horse 
the  rein,  taking  the  fields  instead  of  the  Avinding  path  that 
led  through  them  to  the  usual  landing-place.  The  old 
felloAv  stuck  to  his  saddle  like  a cat,  and  Avent  over  trenches 
Avffiere  I made  sure  I should  shake  him  off,  as  if  he  had 
done  nothing  else  but  ride  steeple-chases  all  his  life,  nor 
did  he  pull  up  till  I did,  at  the  bank  of  the  river,  AV'here 
the  Phantom  lay  along  the  shore,  near  a boat  Avhich  evi- 
dently belonged  to  a man  of  distinction.  Suleiman’s  face 
greAV  some  inches  longer  Avhen  he  recognized  his  superior, 
Mohammed  Romali,  the  nazir  of  this  section.  Him  I 
found,  seated  on  a carpet  under  a sont  tree,  Avith  Trum- 
bull, and  the  two  Avere  discussing  sherbet  and  chibouks 

11 


242 


GOVERNMENT  OF  EGYPT. 


as  confidentially  as  if  they  had  known  each  other  from 
childhood. 

He  had  arrived  a short  time  before,  and  had  summoned 
the  resident  khadi  before  him  to  hear  a report  of  the  late 
litigations  which  he  had  decided.  The  khadi  had  come 
down,  attended  by  several  litigants,  and  Trumbull,  on  his 
arrival,  had  found  the  nazir  listening  to  the  statements, 
and  affirming  or  reversing  decrees,  as  the  cases  were  sev- 
erally laid  before  him.  But  he  interrupted  his  court  on 
the  arrival  of  the  Phantom^  and  between  them  they  had 
drank  some  half-dozen  cups  of  cofiTee  each,  and  had  finished 
nearly  as  many  pipes  of  tobacco. 

The  form  of  government  of  Egypt  is  somewhat  of  a 
puzzle  to  the  natives,  and  to  the  governors  themselves, 
but  Mohammed  Roumali,  the  governor  with  Avhom  I 
found  Trumbull,  informed  me  of  its  general  nature,  and 
it  is  somewhat  thus  : 

Every  thing  here  is  autocratical.  The  viceroy  is  su- 
preme, and  makes  laws  as  he  pleases,  appointing  and  dis- 
appointing, moving  and  re-moving,  as  his  will  inclines. 
Next  to  him  are  the  superintendent  governors  of  the  three 
great  sections  of  Egypt.  The  first  section  reaches  from 
the  sea  to  a point  not  far  above  Cairo.  The  second  sec- 
tion from  this  point  to  Semneh,  just  above  the  second  cata- 
ract, and  the  last  from  Semneh  as  far  south  as  the  viceroy 
can  collect  taxes.  Of  the  second  section,  which  covers  all 
that  part  of  the  Nile  that  travelers  ordinarily  go  over, 
Latif  Pasha  is  the  superintendent  governor,  exercising 
supreme  power.  Although  the  law  requires  all  sentences 
of  death  to  be  submitted  to  the  viceroy,  he  does  not  wait 
for  this,  but  executes  when  he  pleases.  Under  him,  and 
as  a sort  of  associate  officer,  is  Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  who  is 
governor  of  the  same  section,  under  the  superintendence 
of  Latif  Pasha.  Under  him  again  are  governors  of  minor 
sections,  as,  for  example,  Abd-el-Rahman,  who  is  governor 


A SICK  KHADI. 


243 


from  Wady  Halfeh  to  the  first  cataract,  and  Suleiman 
Efiendi,  who  is  governor  from  the  first  cataract  to 
Thebes.  Under  these  governors  are  traveling  governors, 
who  go  along  the  river  from  place  to  place,  examining 
the  conduct  of  various  villages  and  cities,  hearing  appeals 
from  the  local  magistrates  and  judges,  and  attending  to 
similar  business.  Besides  these,  each  village  and  city  has 
its  local  governor,  whose  power  extends  only  to  the  next 
village ; every  city  and  village  has  its  sheik,  as  also  has 
each  separate  trade  or  business.  Thus  the  boatmen  have 
their  sheik  in  every  large  place ; the  laborers  in  the  field 
liave  their  sheik ; the  merchants,  the  donkey  owners,  and 
the  water  carriers.  The  office  of  the  sheik  is  hereditary, 
descending  from  father  to  son. 

The  interpreter  and  judge  of  the  law  is  in  the  first  in- 
stance the  khadi,  who  is  a sort  of  clergyman,  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  Koran  and  its  provisions.  Any  man 
dissatisfied  with  the  decision  of  a sheik,  may  go  to  the 
khadi,  and  from  him  to  the  nazir.  Thus  far  an  appeal  is 
safe.  But  to  carry  it  further,  is  risking  lands  and  life,  in 
an  autocratical  country  like  this. 

The  khadi,  in  this  instance,  was  a sort  of  chief  justice 
among  the  khadis  hereabouts.  He  was  a plain,  elderly 
man,  dressed  in  the  simplest  costume — shirt  and  turban — 
but  a man  of  dignity,  and  apparently  much  respected. 

He,  too,  came  on  board  the  boat,  and,  shortly  after, 
took  me  aside  and  begged  a prescription  for  a chronic  dis- 
ease with  which  he  was  afiected,  and  which  I gave  him  as 
cautiously  as  I could,  knowing  nothing  about  the  proper 
treatment.  I recommended  what  I knew  would  not  hurt 
him,  and,  as  it  afterward  turned  out,  I was  very  fortunate, 
for  on  my  return  to  Edfou,  three  weeks  later,  he  pro- 
nounced himself  a well  man,  and,  wonderful  to  relate, 
attributed  it  to  the  medicine. 

The  charcoal  was  all  in,  and  still  they  sat.  Old  Su- 


244 


EASTERN  TOBACCO. 


leiinaii  had  received  his  conge  long  ago.  The  nazir 
knew  what  he  came  for,  and  found  business  for  him  else- 
where ; and  when  he  was  gone,  frankly  told  us  why  he 
sent  him  away. 

I believe  it  was  the  first  time  that  Trumbull  and  myself 
acknowledged  ourselves  smoked  out.  I counted  pipes  un- 
til I was  on  my  eleventh  and  he  must  have  been  on  the 
seventeenth,  and  there  was  still  no  sign  of  the  nazir  yield- 
ing. 

He  was  a very  intelligent  man,  and  talked  freely  of  the 
state  of  affairs  in  Egypt.  We  picked  up  much  informa- 
tion from  him.  “ Don’t  be  in  haste  about  going,”  said 
he,  observing  certain  signs  of  impatience.  “ There  is  no 
wind,  and  I will'  see  that  you  lose  nothing  by  chatting 
with  me  an  hour  or  two  longer.  It’s  a comfort  to  meet 
some  one  from  the  lower  country.  I pass  the  summer 
here  among  these  people,  and  don’t  see  an  intelligent 
man  till  the  travelers  begin  to  come  up  the  river  in  the 
winter.”  And  so  we  filled  up  our  pipes  again,  and  went 
at  it  afresh. 

I like  tobacco  moderately  and  immoderately,  nor  have 
I any  hesitation  in  pronouncing  myself  a judge  of  tobacco. 
And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  although  on  first  tasting  it, 
I condemned  Latakea  as  no  tobacco  at  ail,  I became  at 
length  inordinately  fond  of  it,  and  smoked  it  in  quantities 
incredible. 

The  tobacco  of  the  East  is  of  many  varieties.  The 
Turkish,  or  Stambouli,  found  in  Constantinople  bazaars,  is 
strong,  somewhat  sharp,  and  not  pleasant.  It  is  now  im- 
ported to  America  in  quantities,  and  may  be  bought  any- 
where in  Hew  York.  It  is  of  light  color,  and  very  finely 
cut,  so  as  to  appear  almost  like  threads.  In  flavor,  to  lips 
that  have  been  pleased  with  genuine  Latakea,  the  Stam- 
bouli is  detestable. 

Hext  comes  Syrian  Jebeli,  or  mountain  tobacco — a 


LATAKEA  TOBACCO. 


245 


fine-flavored  article,  but  acrid,  and  although  preferable  to 
Stambouli,  it  is  stronger  than  Latakea,  and  inferior  in 
delicacy.  My  American  taste  led  me  to  mix  it  with  the 
Latakea,  and  thus  bring  the  latter  up  to  the  strength  of 
good  Cuba  tobacco ; but,  as  I grew  to  liking  the  Latakea, 
I dropped  the  Jebeli  entirely.  Egypt  has  its  leledi  to- 
bacco, that  is  the  native  tobacco  of  the  country,  and  it  is 
of  the  lowest  grade.  The  common  people  use  it,  and  not 
infrequently  it  is  inflicted  on  guests  by  village  sheiks  and 
petty  officials,  as  I remember  to  my  cost  at  Abou  Girg. 

There  are  two  cities  of  old  times  known  to  history  as 
Laodicea : the  one  Laodicea  of  Asia  Minor,  celebrated  as 
the  site  of  one  of  the  seven  churches ; the  other  in  Syria, 
on  the  sea  coast,  not  far  from  the  north-east  corner  of  the 
Mediterranean.  In  w^andering  through  that  country  I 
found  the  place,  a modern  Syrian  village,  in  the  heart  of 
which  stood  two  stately  ruins  of  Roman  glory,  a ternple 
and  j^erhaps  a tomb.  In  this  latter  city,  Latakea,  as  it  is 
now  called,  much  tobacco  is  sold.  It  is  carefully  pre- 
pared in  a w^ay  not  elsewhere  known,  by  hanging  the 
leaves  in  a smoke-house,  and  burning  under  them  chips 
of  a fragrant  wood.  This  it  is  which  gives  to  the  tobacco 
that  slight  taste  of  smoke  Avhich  Burton  and  other  travel- 
ers mention  without  knowing  its  origin,  and  which  leads 
them  to  condemn  it.  It  is  mostly  sent  to  Egypt,  where 
the  demand  is  never  supplied.  Little  of  the  best  Latakea 
travels  elsewhere,  and  I have  sent  to  Cairo  for  all  that  I 
have  imported  since  my  return,  being  certain  of  getting 
the  best  there.  Its  fragrance  is  ambrosial,  its  efiects  on 
brain  and  nerves  beyond  description  calm. 

Come  and  see  me  some  evening,  O my  friend,  and  we 
will  close  the  windows,  and  drop  the  curtains,  and  shut 
out  the  sight,  if  not  the  sound,  of  the  rattling,  driving, 
furious  western  world,  and  you  shall  wrap  my  old  and 
travel-stained  boomoose  around  you,  crown  your  head 


246 


A STRONG  PULL. 


with  my  tarbouche  that  has  been  wet  with  the  spray  of 
the  second  cataract  of  the  Nile,  the  sea  of  Galilee,  the 
frozen  dews  of  Ilermon,  and  the  waters  of  the  Pharpar, 
and  you  shall  sip  mocha  (veritable  akwa  of  the  orient), 
black  and  fragrant  as  the  drink  of  gods,  while  we  make 
the  air  blue  with  the  delicious  aroma  of  Latakea,  fit  for 
the  shapes  and  shades  that  haunt  my  memories  of  the 
East,  which  you  shall  share. 

Mohammed  Roumali  kept  his  promise,  that  we  should 
not  sufier  by  our  delay.  While  he  talked,  his  messengers 
had  collected  the  people  in  all  directions,  and  he  had  at 
length  a hundred  fellaheen  waiting  his  orders.  At  three 
in  the  afternoon  he  went  ashore,  and  they  took  hold  of 
the  tow-rope,  and  went  up  the  bank  with  a will.  It  was 
child’s-play  to  them,  so  many  on  one  boat,  and  they  drew 
us  in  two  hours  further  than  our  own  men  would  have 
been  able  to  track  in  a day.  The  current  above  Edfou  is 
very  strong,  and  the  assistance  was  most  timely.  To- 
ward evening  a light  breeze  sprang  up,  and,  taking  in  the 
tow-rope,  we  shot  ahead  of  the  dusky  group,  who  stood 
in  a body  on  the  shore,  and  watched  us  for  a long  time  as 
we  went  up  the  river. 


^3. 


Jl)e  Jotoel"  of  Sljeiie. 


I WAS  roused  from  a sound  sleep  by  a terrible  row  on 
shore.  My  room  was  six  feet  by  four,  of  which  four  two 
feet  were  occupied  by  my  bed.  Trumbull’s  room,  of  the 
same  size,  was  opposite  to  mine,  and  the  entire  stern  of  the 
boat  was  in  one  room,  which  was  occupied  by  the  ladies. 
I raised  myself  on  my  elbow  high  enough  to  look  out  of 
my  window  which  stood  open  day  and  night,  and  seeing  a 
general  skirmish  going  on  between  the  crew  and  some 
natives,  I seized  my  koorbash  and  sprang  from  the  win- 
dow to  the  bank. 

The  appearance  of  theHowajji  suspended  hostilities,  and 
I now  learned  for  the  first  time  that  Mohammed  Roumali 
had  placed  an  officer  on  the  boat  with  orders,  whenever 
the  wind  failed,  to  press  fellaheen  into  service  on  the  tow- 
rope,  so  that  our  lost  time  at  Edfou  should  be  fully  made 
Up.  We  could  not,  without  incivility,  refuse  this  aid,  and 
yet  it  w^as  by  no  means  pleasant,  except  in  the  result. 
Leaving  the  cawass  to  exercise  his  authority,  I turned 
back  to  the  boat  and  we  pushed,  or  rather  they  pulled 
us,  on.  Ten  minutes  later  there  w^as  a loud  outcry  on 
the  bank ; Abd-el-Atti  rushed  into  the  cabin  for  his  pis- 
tols and  I followed  him  out  with  mine,  under  a sort  of 
imagination  that  not  less  than  a thousand  Bedouins  must 
be  in  the  neighborhood  waiting  to  attack  us. 


248 


A SKIRMISH. 


The  crew,  taken  mightily  with  the  notion  of  getting 
help  on  the  tow-rope,  had  organized  in  a soid  of  roving 
party,  and  with  the  cawass  at  their  head  were  marching 
about  three  liundred  yards  from  the  river,  Avhere  they 
could  cut  off  all  natives  who  attempted  to  escape  inland 
and  drive  them  down  to  the  tow-rope.  By  this  means  they 
had  now  about  fifty  and  were  in  high  spirits,  as  indeed 
were  those  that  were  caught,  who  the  moment  they  were 
at  work,  entered  into  the  pleasure  of  catching  others. 
The  rascals  so  much  enjoyed  entrap^iing  their  friends  that 
I lost  all  pity  for  them.  But  the  crew  had  met  their 
match  in  a group  of  nearly  forty  natives  who  were  as- 
sembled in  an  openmg  among  the  standing  corn,  and  who 
had  gotten  the  idea  that  a government  boat  was  coming 
to  catch  and  press  them  for  soldiers  in  the  army  of  Said 
Pasha.  Death  has  no  such  horror  for  Egyptians  as  this 
fate  of  being  pressed  as  a soldier.  . To  avoid  it  they  cut 
off  their  fingers,  pluck  out  their  eyes,  and  mutilate  them- 
selves in  every  way. 

The  little  group  were  assembled  with  all  the  determina- 
tion of  rebels  in  a brave  cause,  and  as  the  cawass  made 
his  appearance  through  the  corn,  a lance  went  by  his  head 
within  an  inch  of  it,  and  struck  the  shoulder  of  Hassan 
Ilegazi,  but  being  nearly  spent  wounded  him  but  slightly. 
A tremendous  yell  from  both  sides  announced  the  deter- 
mination of  both  to  fight  out  the  battle  thus  commenced, 
and  Abd-el-Atti  hearing  it  rushed  to  the  rescue  with  the 
Howajji  close  behind  him.  The  combatants  were  still 
facing  each  other  when  we  arrived,  and  Hassan  brought 
me  the  spear  which  I preserved  as  a trophy  and  have 
with  me  now.  The  arrival  of  fire-arms  put  an  end  to  the 
contest.  The  poor  feellaheen  dropped  on  their  knees  and 
begged  for  mercy. 

Abd-el-Atti  explained  to  them  what  was  wanted  of 
them,  and  their  faces  lit  up  with  delight,  while  the  scoun- 


HARD  A-GROUND. 


249 


drels  instantly  i^roposed  to  inveigle  all  the  men  of  a 
neigHboring  village  into  the  trap;  But  at  this  moment  a 
breeze  came  and  we  hastened  on  board,  drew  in  the 
track-rope,  scattered  a liberal  bucksheesh  on  shore,  and 
were  away.  News  flies  swiftly  even  in  Egypt.  For  miles 
up  the  river  the  shadoofs  were  deserted,  the  corn  flelds 
em]3ty,  nor  could  we  see  man,  or  woman,  or  child,  so  that 
you  would  have  thought  the  land  deserted  of  its  inhabit- 
ants, such  was  their  terror  of  the  government  boat. 

I regretted  the  whole  circumstance  as  exceedingly 
painful,  nor  have  I yet  forgiven  myself  the  pain  of  appre- 
hension that  I unwittingly  inflicted  on  these  poor  wretches 
already  weighed  down  with  the  oppression  of  their  miser- 
able life. 

Toward  evening  the  breeze  freshened  and  blew  a steady 
gale.  In  a clear  laughing  moonlight  we  entered  the  nar- 
row pass  at  Hagar  Silsilis,  and  swept  with  a full  sail  and  a 
long  swinging  roll  through  this  rocky  gate  of  the  upper 
country,  catching  in  dim  outline  the  carved  grottos  that 
adorn  the  western  shore,  and  the  high  rock  from  which 
the  gorge  derives  its  name. 

Of  this  more  when  I come  down  the  river. 

As  we  rushed  out  of  the  pass  into  a broad,  moonlit, 
lake-like  sheet  of  water,  we  saw  a boat  lying  at  the  shore, 
and  then  Avith  a thump  that  sent  every  thing  flying  over 
the  deck,  we  struck  a sand  bar,  and  were  fast  aground. 

Perhaps  this  was  the  twentieth  time  since  we  left 
Cairo,  and,  as  in  each  former  instance,  a dozen  of  the 
crew  were  overboard  in  an  instant,  heaving  under  the 
side  of  the  boat.  It  was  an  hour  before  Ave  got  ofi*  and 
dropped  down  stream  again  to  stand  up  another  chan- 
nel. 'We  passed  a boat  that  Avas  lying  at  the  shore, 
little  dreaming  then,  that  by  the  light  that  flashed  out 
on  the  Nile  Avere  sitting  tAvo  Americans,  although  we 
might  have  guessed  it  had  Ave  reflected  that  our  friends, 

11^ 


250 


KOUM  OMBOS. 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Martin,  had  left  Es  Siout  a day  before  us, 
and  where  somewhere  liereabout. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  were  under  the  high  bluff 
on  which  stands  the  temple  of  Kouni  Ombos,  and  we 
climbed  the  hill  before  breakfast,  all  four  of  us,  to  see  the 
ruins  and  the  vieAv  up  the  river. 

The  temple  was  founded  in  the  time  of  Ptolemy  Philo- 
metor,  b.  c.  1 80,  and  continued  and  completed  during 
the  reigns  of  his  successors,  and  is  singular  in  being,  as  it 
were,  a double  temple,  having  two  shrines,  in  which  two 
contemplar  gods  were  worshiped,  the  one  in  each. 

There  is  a gateway  of  another  temple  standing,  but 
the  stone  of  the  temple  itself  is  fallen  down  the  hill,  and 
lies  in  irregular  masses  even  to  the  edge  of  the  water. 
No  one  can  even  trace  the  former  shape  of  this  building. 
The  chief  interest  in  looking  at  the  large  temple  consists 
in  the  fact  that  its  sculptures  were  never  wholly  finished, 
and  the  marks  of  the  artists,  the  outline  drawings  of  the 
figures,  and  the  squares  into  which  the  surface  of  the 
stone  was  marked  out  before  drawing  the  figures,  all  re- 
main freshly  visible,  even  to  the  places  where  the  chisel 
had  but  touched  the  rock.  There  is  something  melan- 
choly in  the  unfinished  painting  of  a dead  painter,  the 
half-hewn  marble  of  a dead  sculptor,  the  half-written 
song  of  a dead  poet.  How  much  more  oppressive  the 
melancholy,  where  the  painter  and  sculptor  have  been 
dead  two  thousand  years,  and  the  stone  remains  as  it  was 
left,  and  the  lines  still  stand  on  the  surface ! 

While  we  stood  looking  out  alternately  to  the  south  and 
to  the  north-west,  the  boat  of  our  American  friends  came 
up  the  river  wdth  a fair  breeze,  and  we  ran  hastily  down 
the  sloping  side  of  the  hill,  plunging  our  feet  into  the 
loose  desert  sand,  and  were  on  board  as  the  first  breath 
of  wind  reached  us.  We  dashed  up  the  river  rapidly, 
and  as  the  breeze  freshened  to  almost  a gale,  we  flew  be- 


HASSABO  AT  HOME. 


251 


fore  it.  The  golden  sands  now  came  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  water  on  both  sides  of  us,  often  seeming  ready  to 
overflow  and  destroy  the  groups  of  palms  that  stood  on 
the  shore.  As  we  approached  Es  Souan  the  villages  im- 
proved in  apjDearance,  and  every  thing  seemed  to  be 
smiling.  Even  the  desert  was  beautiful,  exceedingly, 
and  the  sky  was  glorious. 

Hassabo,  the  steersman,  the  best  man  on  the  boat,  had 
his  family  in  a small  village  below  Es  Souan,  and  of 
course  must  take  this  opportunity  to  see  them.  As  we 
could  not  ascend  the  cataract  till  the  next  day,  w^e  gave 
him  leave  of  absence  to  rejoin  us  above  the  cataract,  and 
he  made  ready  his  baggage  and  the  little  presents  he  had 
brought  from  Cairo. 

All  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  for  miles  before  we 
reached  the  village,  his  acquaintances  hailed  him,  and  he 
exchanged  with  them  the  graceful  phrases  of  eastern 
salutation.  The  news  of  his  approach  ran  along  the 
shore  faster  than  we  flew,  and  many  voices  out  of  the 
fields  and  villages  hailed  us  with  shouts  of  “ welcome 
Hassabo !”  At  length  we  came  up  to  a group  of  dark- 
faced persons  (for  Hassabo  is  a Nubian,  and  black),  and 
here  we  let  the  sheet  fly,  and  the  boat’s  keel  scraped  the 
sand.  Over  flew  all  his  baggage  far  up  the  bank,  and 
then  Hassabo  sprang  into  his  mother’s  arms.  The  old 
woman  stood  trembling  on  the  shore,  looking  wistfully 
for  him  till  he  left  the  boat.  Then  she  threw  her  arms 
around  him,  and  clasped  him  close,  and  wept  over  him, 
and  kissed  his  cheeks,  and  all  the  time  he  stood  silent 
and  motionless,  only  looking  at  her  and  the  surrounding 
group.  She  touched  his  cheeks  and  his  hands  as  if,  like 
old  Isaac,  her  eyesight  were  dim,  and  she  would  know 
him  by  the  softness  of  his  shining  skin,  and  then  she  laid 
her  withered  hand  on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  leaned 


252 


FAR  SYENE. 


forward  and  threw  herself  again  on  his  breast.  Yea — 
verily — it  was  her  boy. 

O,  Philip,  my  friend,  who  will  read  these  lines  as  if  you 
heard  my  voice  speaking  them,  you  will  understand  how 
my  heart  yearned  to  that  mother,  though  she  was  black 
and  poor.  There  was  a day,  long,  long  after  that,  when 
another  wanderer  reached  his  mother’s  house,  and  found 
her  alone  where  he  had  left  her  with  his  father’s  pres- 
ence. And  when  the  far-traveled  boy  pressed  her  quiv- 
ering lips,  though  it  was  in  a sunny  American  home, 
among  trees  and  vines,  and  with  fair  white  faces  around 
them,  his  heart  went  back  to  the  cataract  and  black 
Hassabo  and  his  glad  old  mother. 

We  stood  on  deck  in  front  of  the  cabin  doors,  and 
looked  admiringly  on  the  scene.  The  crew  entered  into 
it  with  keen  delight,  and  as  the  sheet  was  hauled  home, 
and  they  heaved  her  bow  from  the  shore,  they  gave  three 
genuine  hurras,  as  we  had  taught  them  how,  for  Hassabo, 
and  on  rushed  the  Phantom  to  far  Syene.  It  was  three 
in  the  afternoon  when  we  dashed  by  the  hill  on  which 
stands  the  ruined  citadel,  and  among  the  rocks  Avhich 
here  fill  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  fired  our  salute  to  the 
cataract  as  we  came  to  the  land  at  its  foot  under  the 
tower  of  Syene. 

Here,  again,  was  a point  in  my  wanderings  that  was 
full  of  interest,  as  one  of  the  ancient  boundaries  of  the 
world.  Here^  in  old  days,  men  j^aused,  and  hesitated,  and 
turned  back.  The  dwellers  beyond  Syene  were  unknown 
heathen.  But  here  were  four  travelers  from  a land  beyond 
the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  vdio  had  come  thus  far  to  look  at 
Syene,  and  pass  its  rocky  barriers,  and  go  on  to  a more 
distant  point,  whose  feet  had  already  traveled  six  thousand 
miles  from  home,  and  would  walk  many  thousand  more 
before  they  returned  to  that  threshold  again.  The  world 
ended  here,  and  the  world  ends  not  far  from  here  no^r; 


ELEPHANTINE. 


253 


but  men  live  beyond,  and  temj^les  and  palaces  lie  in  ruins 
beyond,  and  the  palm-trees  flourish,  and  the  Kile  flows, 
and  yet,  if  all  that  lies  beyond  Syene  were  blotted  out  of 
existence,  swept  ofi*  from  the  chart  of  the  world  and  the 
page  of  history,  who  would  miss  any  thing  ? Y erily  the 
world  ends  just  here. 

A crowd  -were  waiting  for  us  at  Es  Souan.  Being  the 
first  boat  of  the  season,  we  were  likely  to  be  victimized 
by  all  the  venders  of  curiosities,  and  they  manifestly  re- 
garded us  as  legitimate  prey.  There  were  sellers  of 
gigantic  ebony  clubs,  the  weapon  of  the  Abyssinians,  and 
rhinoceros  hide  shields,  wherewith  to  ward  off  the  blows 
of  the  clubs,  and  there  were  naked  children  with  baskets, 
curiously  plaited,  and  pipes  of  clay  well  made  and  well 
burned,  and  koorbashes,  and  dates,  and  ostrich  eggs,  and 
all  sorts  of  antiques  from  Elephantine. 

The  crowd  beset  the  shore,  alongside  the  boat.  When 
I went  ashore,  hearing  my  name  called  out  in  good  En- 
glish, they  turned  it  into  Arabic  precisely  as  all  others 
had  done,  and  shouted,  “Braheem  Pasha,  buy  our  wares.” 

After  a vain  attempt  to  stroll  quietly  along  the  shore, 
we  took  refuge  in  our  small  boat,  and  pulled  across  to 
the  island  of  Elephantine. 

The  glory  of  Elephantine  has  departed  long  ago.  In 
ancient  days  its  temples  and  palaces  surpassed  in  splendor 
all  the  fables  of  antiquity.  Ko  wealth  could  again  rear 
such  buildings ; no  nation  of  modern  times,  with  all  the 
wealth  of  modern  days,  could  erect  one  such  temple, 
much  less  the  hundred  that  crowded  this  sacred  island. 
Here  magnificence  and  beauty  held  their  court  and  swayed 
the  hearts  of  men.  Here  alternate  love  and  hate,  and  all 
the  passions  of  the  human  breast,  held  for  their  brief  times 
the  reins  of  power.  Here  men  reigned,  women  loved, 
kings  and  priests  and  princes  lived  and  died,  and  the 
change  came,  and  time  trod  on  them  and  crushed  the 


254 


NUBIAN  GIRLS. 


palaces,  and  the  avenging  angel  swept  his  wing  over 
them,  and  their  very  dust  went  away  on  the  wind.  Ele- 
phantine lay  in  the  Xile,  and  other  nations  took  the  place 
of  Egypt  in  the  roll  of  time.  There  is,  perhaps,  no  place 
in  Egypt  that,  could  it  have  a voice,  would  utter  more 
strange  and  splendid  histories  of  men  and  kings  than  this 
island. 

It  lies  in  the  river,  from  the  foot  of  the  cataract, 
stretching  down  in  front  of  Es  Souan  about  a mile,  and  is 
nearly  half  a mile  in  breadth.  It  surface  is  a mass  of 
ruins,  shapeless  and  hideous.  Ruin  sits  triumphant  here. 
Xot  even  the  plowshare  of  ancient  history,  which  has  run 
over  so  many  ruins,  could  prevail  here  to  penetrate  the 
mass.  A small  part  of  the  island  is  cultivated,  but  a large 
portion  still  remains  in  the  condition  I have  described,  and 
so  will  remain  so  long  as  the  world  stands.  Fragments 
of  statues,  a gateway  of  the  time  of  the  mighty  son  of 
Philip,  an  alta\’  whose  fire  was  long  ago  extinguished  in 
the  blood  of  its  worshipers ; these  and  similar  relics  re- 
main; but  nothing  to  indicate  the  shape,  extent,  or 
date  of  any  of  the  buildings  that  formerly  covered  the 
island. 

On  the  shore  a group  of  Nubian  girls  met  us  'with 
them  small  worked  baskets  and  mats,  and  a few  antiques, 
for  sale.  They  were  the  first  specimens  of  the  Nubians 
we  had  seen  at  their  homes,  and  they  were  as  different 
a race  fi-om  the  Egyptians  as  we  ourselves.  Black  in 
color,  but  with  sharply-cut  features  and  beautiful  eyes, 
they  are  as  fine-looking  a people  as  the  world  can 
produce.  Nor  do  they  hide  their  beauties.  The  full 
costume  of  the  unmarried  females  is  a simple  leathern 
girdle  around  the  waist,  with  a fringe  hanging  a few 
inches  below  it.  There  was  one  gh*l  among  those  at 
Elephantine  that  was  exceedingly  beautiful.  She  was 
tall,  slender,  and  graceful  as  a deer,  and  quite  as  timid. 


THE  AMERICAN  AGENT. 


255 


She  would  not  approach  us  near  enough  to  offer  her  mats 
for  sale,  but  coming  within  ten  feet  would  start  suddenly, 
and  spring  into  the  air  like  a fawn  and  dart  away,  and 
then  coming  slowly  back  approach  us  as  nearly  again, 
only  to  retreat  in  the  same  way.  Her  face  was  the  soul 
of  fun,  and  her  eyes  were  brimful  of  laughter.  We 
watched  her  for  half  an  hour,  offering  her  money  to  in- 
duce her  to  come  nearer,  but  we  'were  obliged  at  length 
to  lay  it  down  and  let  her  take  it  up  when  we  had  gone 
three  or  four  yards  away,  and  then  she  stooped  with  her 
eyes  fixed  on  us,  never  removing  her  gaze.  W e wandered 
over  the  island  until  sunset  and  dark,  and  then,  when  the 
moon  was  bright,  we  rowed  up  the  river  into  the  gorge 
between  the  island  and  the  rocky  bluff  above  Es  Souan, 
and  let  our  boat  drift  slowly  down  by  the  ruined  temples 
and  the  dark  rocks. 

I found  the  cabin  of  the  Phantom  in  possession  of  a 
fat  and  comfortable  looking  Copt,  in  a rich  dress,  who 
called  himself  American  agent  at  Es  Souan.  I knew  that 
Mustapha  at  Luxor  was  the  only  agent  on  the  Nile  above 
Cairo,  but  the  fellow  was  so  sincere  about  it  that  I couldn’t 
doubt  his  own  belief  that  he  held  some  such  oflScial  ap- 
pointment. 

As  he  wanted  the  opportunity  to  make  a little  money 
out  of  us,  and  as  I wanted  nothing  at  Es  Souan  so  much  as 
three  or  four  handsome  koorbashes  as  ladies’  riding- whips 
(for  they  carve  them  very  skillfully),  I requested  him  to 
bring  some  down  early  the  next  morning,  as  we  were 
going  to  leave  in  the  forenoon ; and  so  getting  rid  of  him, 
we  had  time  for  dinner,  coffee,  and  profound  slumber. 

Early  in  the  morning  Trumbull  and  myself  walked  out 
alone  into  the  vast  cemetery  that  almost  surrounds  Es 
Souan.  The  tombs  extend  over  miles  square  of  desert, 
and  date  from  the  very  earliest  periods  of  Islam.  It  is  the 
largest  and  the  most  desolate  burial-place  in  the  world. 


256 


HASTY  BURIAL. 


Ko  tree  sheds  its  leaves  on  the  mounds,  no  blade  of  grass 
springs  up  to  cheer  the  mourners  with  the  emblem  of 
resurrection.  Not  one  solitary  palm  looks  heavenward 
from  this  dry,  sandy  waste  of  death. 

Near  the  village,  just  at  sunrise,  we  saw  a funeral  cere- 
mony, but  did  not  pause.  We  wandered  an  hour  in  the 
hollows  and  over  the  hills  of  this  curious  Golgotha,  and 
then  climbed  a hill  that  overlooks  the  outlet  of  the  cata- 
ract, and  lay  down  on  the  sandy  summit  to  gaze  on 
Elephantine  and  the  Nile. 

“ Ya  Braheem  Elfendi — Braheem  Effendi.” 

The  shout  came  as  if  from  the  tombs  themselves.  Deep 
down  in  the  hollow  we  saw  two  Arabs  leading  horses, 
and  they  seeing  us,  came  up  the  hill  to  say  t^at  the 
governor  of  Es  Souan  was  at  his  diwan,  and  had  sent 
horses  to  request  us  to  honor  him  with  a morning  visit. 
We  had  not  yet  breakfasted,  but  promising  to  see  him 
after  breakfast  (he  had  called  on  us  the  evening  previous, 
and  wasted  a half-hour  of  his  and  our  time  in  dull  formali- 
ties of  talk),  we  cantered  down  to  the  boat. 

The  soi-disant  American  agent  was  waiting  for  us  out- 
side the  cabin  with  his  pile  of  koorbashes.  Ferraj  had 
wisely  kept  him  out  lest  he  should  spoil  by  his  pres- 
ence one  of  Hajji  Mohammed’s  inimitable  breakfasts.  He 
apologized  for  not  coming  earlier,  as  he  said  his  son  had 
died  in  the  night  and  he  was  detained  in  the  morning  to 
bury  him.  He  was  as  cool  about  it  as  if  he  had  spoken 
of  a dog,  and  this  sudden  change  in  his  family  since  he 
had  parted  from  us  the  evening  before — a son  sick  in  bed 
then,  but  buried  three  feet  deep  now — did  not  appear  to 
him  a matter  worth  mentioning  except  by  way  of  apology 
for  his  delay.  Such  hasty  burial  is  the  eastern  custom. 
Doubtless  this  was  the  burial  we  had  seen. 

The  expense  of  taking  the  boat  up  the  cataract  was,  as 
the  reader  already  knows,  no  concern  of  ours,  but  Abd- 


CATARACT  REISES. 


257 


el-Atti  was  iu  a fair  way  to  be  swindled  linless  we  would 
aid  him  in  person,  and  we  consented. 

Every  one  who  has  read  books  on  Eg^pt  is  familiar 
with  the  fact,  that  the  first  cataract  of  the  Nile  has  been 
from  time  immemorial  under  the  charge  of  a reis  or  cap- 
tain, who  monopolized  the  fees  for  dragging  boats  up  its 
rapids.  Of  late  years  the  increase  of  travel  has  been  so 
great  that  there  are  four  reises  in  partnership  who  at- 
tend to  the  business ; and  it  is  so  profitable  withal  that 
they  have  a great  many  other  persons  in  the  partnership, 
even  to  the  governor  at  Es  Souan  himself,  who,  for  the 
sake  of  having  his  own  boat  taken  up  free,  as  well^^s  for 
the  sake  of  part  of  the  pay,  never  interferes  with  the  reises 
of  the  cataract  in  their  rapacity. 

But  we  were  fortified  with  a firman  from  his  highness  ; 
and  if  it  were  of  no  use  here,  it  was  not  likely  that  it 
would  be  any  where.  Besides  this,  a letter  from  Latif 
Pasha  to  the  governor  at  Es  Souan,  and  another  from 
Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  instructed  him  to  pay  special  atten- 
tion to  us.  ^Ye  accordingly  sent  him  word  to  have  the 
rL'iics  of  the  cataract  at  his  diwan,  where  we  would  meet 
them.  As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  we  Avent  up  to  the 
residence,  AA^here  Ave  found  the  governor  already  in  con- 
clave with  the  shellalee^  or  men  cf  the  cataract. 

Old  Reis  Hassan  was  conspicuous  for  his  gray  beard 
and  broad  shoulders.  He  is  celebrated  in  story,  as  was  his 
father  before  him.  Bag  Bong  was  a giant,  a bony  Nub- 
ian, gaunt  and  stout-framed,  Avith  an  eye  like  a'deA^il’s, 
and  an  arm  like  a Titan’s.  The  other  tAvo,  Ibrahim  and 
Selim,  Avere  younger  and  more  silent ; but  the  four  looked 
abundantly  able  to  lift  the  boat  on  their  shoulders  and 
carry  it  over  the  hills.  "We  had  manifestly  broken  in  on 
a consultation  among  the  Avorthies,  in  A\dnch  the  gOA^er- 
nor’s  son-in-laAv,  a sharp-looking  Greek,  had  taken  a con- 
spicuous part.  He  Avas  apparently  gOA^ernor  of  the  old  man. 


258 


A SLOW  bargain. 


We  sat  down  on  dingy  cushions,  and  accepted  pipes 
and  coiFee  before  the  conference  began,  and  at  length 
opened  the  subject  by  requesting  the  governor  to  inform 
us  what  the  reis  of  the  cataract  proposed  to  do  for  us. 

The  governor  hesitated  a moment,  and  his  ready  son- 
in-law  answered  for  him,  that  the  reis  said  our  boat  was 
too  heavy  and  large  to  go  up  the  cataract  at  all. 

We  smoked  a while  in  silence,  deliberating  on  this  com- 
munication, and,  in  the  mean  time,  I was  looking  over  the 
faces  of  the  four  reises,  and  studying  out  their  separate 
capacities  and  influence  with  each  other. 

“ Qur  boat  has  been  up  the  cataract  every  year  for  four 
years.” 

This  was  no  answer.  That  a thing  has  been  done  once 
or  four  times  is  no  reason  that  it  can  be  done  again  in 
Egypt. 

“ She  will  break.  The  water  is  very  low  this  year.  It 
was  earlier  when  she  went  uj)  before.” 

“ It  was  February  last.” 

This  was  a point-blank  difierence,  but  it  produced  no 
effect.  We  conversed  a few  moments  in  English,  and 
then  smoked  silently  a while. 

“Very  well;  we  have  given  up  the  idea  of  going  up 
the  cataract.” 

“ There  are  very  good  boats  to  be  had  at  Es  Souan 
that  will  go  up  the  cataract  easily.” 

This  meant  that  the  governor  or’his  son  and  the  shel- 
lalee  had  a boat  that  they  would  like  to  force  us  to  hire. 

“ There  isn’t  a boat  within  five  hundred  miles  of  Es 
Souan  fit  for  an  American  to  go  in.  We  are  going 
back.” 

This  was  a poser. 

“ Perhaps,  if  you  took  out  the  kitchen,  the  stores,  and 
all  the  baggage,  she  might  be  light  enough.” 

“ Perhaps  she  would  ; but  if  we  go  uj)  at  all  we  go  as 


VIRTUE  OF  A FIRMAN. 


259 


we  are.  But  we  have  given  up  going.  We  will  go  down 
the  river  this  afternoon.  Perhaps  the  governor  will  for- 
ward a letter  for  us  to  Abd-el-Kader  Bey  ?” 

There  was  a strong  hint  in  this  suggestion,  and  the 
governor  felt  it.  There  was  another  brief  time  of  smoke 
and  silence,  and  Bag  Boug  then  growled  out  his  opinion. 
He  did  not  see  any  difficulty  in  taking  the  boat  up  if  there 
were  men  enough  to  pull  her.  But  it  would  cost  a great 
deal. 

“ How  much 

A long  silence.  Hassan  spoke  suggestingly,  “Fifteen 
hundred  piastres.” 

I looked  at  him,  at  the  governor,  at  his  son-in-lav/,  laid 
down  my  chibouk,  gathered  my  shawl  around  me,  and 
walked  toward  the  door. 

“Tell  the  governor  I will  send  a letter  for  Abd-el- 
Kader  Bey,  which  I wish  him  to  despatch  immediately, 
and  we  will  sail  as  soon  as  possible.” 

The  governor  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  the  reises  united 
in  making  a new  proposition.  One  thousand  piastres 
would  cover  it  all.  I came  out  and.  left  them.  Then 
Abd-el-Atti  thundered  at  them. 

“ What  is  the  use  of  the  effendi  having  his  highness’s 
letter  if  this  is  all  he  gets  by  it  ? When  did  you  ever 
get  a thousand  piastres  for  taking  a boat  up  the  cataract  ? 
You  are  all  a set  of  thieves  together.  I understand  you, 
and  Braheem  Effendi  understands  you,  and  I can  tell  you 
that  when  Abd-el-Kader  Bey  hears  of  it  he  will  make  you 
move  up  here.  He  will  understand  it,  too,  eh  ? What 
do  you  think  he  will  say,  eh  ? when  he  hears  that  the 
gentleman  with  his  highness’s  letter  could  not  go  up  the 
cataract,  eh  ?” 

They  endeavore4  to  soothe  him,  and  gradually  came 
down  in  their  offers, -and  at  length  he  got  a chance  to 
speak  to  old  Hassan  alone,  and  whispered  to  him  a promise 


260 


BARGAIN  CONCLUDED. 


of  an  extra  bucksheesli  above  the  contract  price,  unknown 
to  the  others.  This  converted  Hassan,  and  he  yielded 
slowly  to  the  offer  of  four  hundred  piastres,  Avhich  the 
others  finally  came  to  most  reluctantly,  and  then  it  was 
closed,  and  I returned  to  the  room. 

The  next  question  came  to  be  discussed  : this  was  the 
when.  It  was  now  eleven  o’clock,  and  of  course  too  late 
to  go  up  to-day. 

“ Why  too  late  ?” 

“No  one  can  go  up  without  starting  very  early  in  the 
morning.” 

“ How  long  does  it  take  ?” 

“ Two  days ; one  day  to  go  up  to  the  foot  of  the  last 
fall,  the  next  to  go  up  the  gate  (which  is  the  first  great 
fall  at  the  head  of  the  cataract).” 

“ Two  days ! In  the  name  of  the  Prophet  what  is  the 
use  of  taking  two  days?  It  ought  to  be  done  in  four 
hours,  and  it  can  and  must.” 

“ Impossible !” 

“ There’s  no  such  word  in  America.  The  thing  must 
be  done.  It  is  now  eleven — not  yet  noon.  We  must  be 
at  Philse  by  sunset.  We  Avill  not  spend  another  night 
here,  or  in  the  cataract.  Up  the  river  or  down,  which- 
ever the  reises  please,”  and  I left  them  disputing. 

At  length  they  came  to  it,  and  then  the  troop  came 
down  to  the  river,  the  old  governor  leading,  and  the  pro- 
cession following.  We  had  crossed  to  Elephantine  again, 
but  returned  when  we  saw  the  procession,  and  instantly 
made  all  ready  for  a start.  The  governor  remained  long 
enough  to  smoke  a pipe,  and  endeavored  to  retrieve  his 
character  by  telling  all  sorts  of  stories  of  the  shellalee, 
laying  the  blame  of  the  slow  contract  to  them.  I sus- 
pected him  the  more  for  his  anxiety  to  be  rid  of  the  im- 
putation, and  having  bowed  him  ashore,  we  were  ready 
to  start. 


ALL  READY. 


261 


For  the  benefit  of  travelers  who  pay  their  own  way 
up  the  Nile,  I record  the  terms  of  the  contract  as  con- 
cluded. 

For  four  hundred  piastres  they  were  to  take  us  up  and 
dovTi  the  cataract,  but  in  addition  to  this  there  was  a 
private  agreement  with  old  Hassan  to  give  him  a hun- 
dred and  fifty  more.  Half  the  money  to  be  paid  on  the 
safe  delivery  of  the  boat  at  Philge,  and  the  other  half  on 
her  safe  return  to  Es  Souan  after  the  completion  of  our 
Nubian  voyage. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Martin  were  going  no  further  than  Es 
Souan,  but  joined  us  on  board  the  Phantom  to  go  ujd  the 
cataract  with  us,  and  return  from  Philm  on  donkeys. 

The  reises  were  in  good  spirits,  and  as  Avell  satisfied  as 
If  their  utmost  demands  had  been  yielded  to.  They  only 
begged  us  to  inform  every  body,  as  they  would,  that  we 
had  paid  a thousand  piastres,  and  help  them  raise  the  price 
this  year. 

We  stowed  away  all  glass  and  movables,  lashed  every 
thing  that  was  likely  to  be  thrown  down,  and  then,  with 
a shout  and  a salute  of  ten  guns,  we  dashed  away  before 
a grand  breeze,  and,  rounding  the  blutf  of  black  basalt, 
which  frowns  over  the  upper  end  of  Elephantine,  we 
breasted  the  last  rush  of  the  rapids,  which  are  called  the 
Cataract  of  the  Nile. 


Il]e  ril'Sf 


The  cataract  is  not  a cataract  in  any  sense  to  Ameri- 
cans. It  is  but  a rapid,  broken  up  by  thousands  of  bould- 
ers of  granite  and  black  basalt.  One  might  well  imagine 
that  here  occurred  the  battle  between  Jupiter  and  the 
Titans,  and  that  the  rocks  hurled  against  the  throne  of 
the  Thunderer  fell  back  here,  shattered  and  broken,  but 
gigantic  still.  Every  where  through  the  cataract  these 
rocks  lie,  piled  on  each  other,  or  singly,  black  and  pol- 
ished, above  the  foaming  river.  The  cataract  is  not  nar- 
row. The  river,  in  fact,  spreads  out  as  wide  as  in  any 
other  part  of  its  length,  and  the  rocks  lie  across  its  en- 
tire breadth.  The  length  of  the  cataract  is  not  more  than 
four  miles.  The  principal  descent  of  water  is  at  its  head, 
where  the  river  comes  down  through  a narrow  pass  called 
the  Gate.  Below  this  it  is  broken  uj),  and  turned,  and 
vexed,  and  dashed  hither  and  thither,  but  there  is  no 
great  fall  at  any  point. 

Still  the  water  was  black,  and  dashed  furiously  against 
our  bows,  as  if  to  warn  us  back  from  the  far-famed  bar- 
riers of  Syene.  A moment  later  we  swept  around  the 
point,  the  rocks  closed  before  and  behind  us,  and  we  were 
in  a lake-like  inclosure.  But  there  was  nothing  lake-like 
in  the  waves  that  dashed  around  us  as  never  lake  was 
vexed.  The  wind  was  now  a gale,  and  howled  over  our 


ASCENT  OF  THE  CATARACT. 


263 


lieads^  and  drove  the  boat  into  the  current,  whose  strength 
increased  at  each  moment.  Two  miles  of  this  navigation, 
turning  frequently  short  around  rocks,  now  skirting  the 
edge  of  a foaming  mass,  now  sliding  with  a grating  jar 
over  a smooth  stone  that  lay  hidden  under  the  boiling 
foam,  brought  us  to  a point  w^here  the  river  came  down 
several  passages  through  the  rocks  into  the  one  broad 
stream  up  which  we  had  come. 

Selecting  the  easternmost  passage,  down  which  the 
waters  .poured  in  yellow  foam,  we  breasted  the  current 
with  a full  sail  and  straining  spars.  The  Phantom  rushed 
at  it  as  if  she  kne^^  what  was  before  her,  and  enjoyed  the 
contest.  J ust  so  I have  seen  her  gallant  namesake  breast 
the  rushing  ebb-tide  off  Watch-hill,  in  a stiff  north-easter, 
coming  up  before  it,  and  rolling  heavily,  but  plunging 
through  bravely. 

The  water  ffew  from  the  bow,  and  the  short  ascent  was 
almost  won,  when  she  hesitated,  trembled,  and  then, 
slowly  yielding,  she  paused. 

We  were  all  on  deck  among  the  men,  the  three  ladies 
seated  in  front  of  the  cabin  door,  and  the  gentlemen 
standing' by  them.  There  was  just  wind  enough  to  hold 
us  where  we  were ; and  we  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  neither  progressing  nor  receding. 

Reis  Hassan  looked  up  stream  and  down  stream,  now 
on  this  and  now  on  that  side.  Selim  was  steadfast  at  the 
tiller,  Ibrahim  was  on  the  look-out  forward,  and  Bag 
Boug  was  every  where  at  once. 

The  old  man  watched  the  full  and  straining  sail ; and 
as  he  saw  her  slowly  yield  and  give  back  to  the  heavy 
rush  of  the  river,  he  shouted  for  a rope,  and,  seizing  the 
coils  of  the  heavy  liban  (the  tow-rope),  dropped  his  tur- 
ban, two  tarbouches,  and  all  his  clothes,  quick  as  light- 
ning, and  sprang  into  the  furious  current.  Ten  strokes 
of  his  powerful  arms,  and  he  was  on  a black  rock,  around 


264 


SHE  ST n IKES. 


which  the  water  was  raging.  From  this  he  dived  again, 
up  stream,  and  disappeared.  The  next  instant  he  came 
above  water,  far  up  stream.  No  human  jDower  could 
swim  that  distance  in  that  current.  lie  had,  doubtless, 
helped  himself  along  by  rocks  on  the  bottom  of  the 
stream ; but  he  had  never  let  go  his  hold  on  the  heavy 
rojie.  A dozen  Nubians  followed  him,  made  the  rope 
fast  around  a rock  directly  ahead  of  us,  and  then, 
throwmg  themselves  into  the  stream,  came  flying  down 
to  the  boat,  which  they  caught  as  they  swept  by,  and 
swung  themselves  in,  and  all  hands  commenced  haul- 
ing with  a tremendous  chorus  of  “ Hali^  Allah !”  All  this 
occupied  a briefer  time  than  I have  taken  to  describe  it, 
and  the  boat  was  still  breasting  the  stream ; but  now  she 
began  to  go  up,  up,  with  every  repeat  of  the  chorus,  un- 
til, j list  as  she  was  on  the  very  crest  of  the  rapid,  and  en- 
tering the  smooth  water,  crack ! The  rope  flew  high  in 
the  air  as  it  j^arted,  and  she  sagged  over  to  the  side  of 
the  passage,  and  thumped  heavily  on  the  rocks,  where 
she  rested. 

The  shouts  that  arose  from  fifty  Arab  throats  drowned 
the  roar  of  the  waters  as  this  mishap  occurred ; but  in 
a moment  twenty  men  were  in  the  water,  other  ropes 
were  carried  forward,  and  then,  with  a long,  steady  haul, 
she  was  swung  off  the  rocks  into  the  stream,  and  u])  into 
a safe  eddy  at  the  top  of  this  part  of  the  cataract,  the  men 
swimming  to  her  from  all  directions,  and  she  flying  on  be- 
fore the  wind  to  the  next  jDlace  of  trial. 

Again,  as  before,  the  wind  carried  us  half  way  uj)  this ; 
and  then  the  black  skins  flashed  through  the  water,  and 
ropes  were  sent  out  to  the  rocks,  and  she  was  drawn  into 
an  eddy  half  way  up,  where  she  rested  again  a moment. 
Here  I was  not  a little  surprised  to  see  her  headed  into  a 
narrow  passage,  not  ten  j’ards  wide,  down  which  the 
water  fell  a foot  or  eighteen  inches  in  a hundred  feet. 


BAG  EOUG  AND  THE  BRANDY. 


265 


The  broader  stream  foamed  and  dashed  high  up  on  the 
rocks,  around  which  it  flowed.  This  passage  seemed 
deeper,  and  Reis  Hassan  knew  his  business.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  sheer  lifting  alone  could  get  the  boat  up  this 
fall,  and  three  ropes  were  got  out  while  we  lay  in  the 
eddy.  Old  Hassan  sprang  to  the  rocks,  and  threw  a 
handful  of  dust  into  the  air.  In  an  instant  men  started  up 
in  every  part  of  the  rocky  bed  of  the  Nile.  The  valley 
that  a moment  before  had  seemed  to  be  only  the  abode 
of  rocks  and  the  great  river,  where  from  hill  to  hill  there 
was  only  black  stone  and  white  foam,  now  swarmed  with 
life,  and  three  hundred  men,  women,  and  children,  rushed 
down  to  the  boat  to  aid  in  the  hauling,  and  claim  their 
share  of  the  reward.  The  children,  whose  name  was 
Legion,  stood  on  the  shore  and  shouted  “ Bucksheesli 
Ilowajji in  every  tone  conceivable,  while  some  threv/ 
themselves  into  the  current,  and  came  dancing  down  the 
water,  and  went  by  us  in  a twinkling,  soon  coming  up, 
with  their  logs  or  floats  on  their  shoulders,  to  claim  their 
pay. 

We  were  ready  for  another  attempt.  Bag  Bong  made 
bis  appearance  at  the  cabin  door,  where  I was  standing. 
He  was  wet,  and  cold,  and  shivering.  He  begged  hard. 
Bag  Boug  is  always  wet,  and  cold,  and  shivering,  and  al- 
ways wants  brandy.  We  had  a lot  on  board,  reserved 
for  such  purposes.  Possibly  the  reader  remembers  my 
purchase  of  it  in  the  Mouski  from  the  ancient  gentleman 
into  whose  arms  my  donkey  threw  me.  Old  Hassan 
never  drinks,  and  I did  not  care  how  drunk  the  others 
were,  for  he  was,  after  all,  the  man  of  the  party.  I 
handed  Bag  Boug  the  glass — a large  tumbler— and  a 
bottle  to  pour  for  himself.  He  filled  the  tumbler  to  the 
brim,  and  poured  it  down  his  throat  as  if  it  were  water, 
and  while  I looked  on  in  astonishment  he  repeated  the 
dose.  On  my  honor  that  shellalee  drank  a full  pint  of 
12 


266 


A COOL  COOK. 


raw  brandy  without  a wink,  and  there  was  not  in  his  con- 
duct afterward  the  slightest  indication  that  he  was  af- 
fected by  it.  His  throat  must  be  copper  to  stand  such 
stuff  as  that  was. 

We  were  now  all  ready;  and  fifty  men  took  hold  of 
the  ropes,  and  as  many  more  stood  on  the  rocks  to  keep 
her  off  and  push  when  they  could.  Up,  up,  up ! But  she 
paused  again.  Twenty  good  steady  men  to  haul  would 
have  sent  her  up ; but  the  Arabs  pulled  one  at  a time, 
and  they  could  not  move  her.  As  she  went  back,  we  all 
sj)rang  to  the  roj^es,  and  three  Americans  hauling  did 
more  than  thirty  Arabs.  She  went  forward,  the  water 
parted  over  her  bow,  she  shot  up  the  fall  and  on  into  the 
eddy  before  the  gate  of  the  cataract. 

Down  this  gate  the  Nile  pours  in  one  solid  stream, 
parting  instantly  around  a hundred  rocks.  As  we  shot 
forward  in  the  eddy  before  the  strong  wind,  we  struck  a 
rock,  and  ran  high  u]3  on  it.  Fifty  men  were  under  her 
instantly,  swimming  till  they  found  points  of  rock  on 
which  to  rest  their  feet,  and  then  lifting  and  pushing,  and 
as  she  sank  off  and  floated,  they  swam  hither  and  thither 
like  fish,  and  we  ran  on  to  the  foot  of  the  gate. 

Here  large  and  strong  preparations  were  necessary  for 
the  final  pull,  and  while  these  were  in  process  we  went  on 
shore  to  see  hoAV  the  boat  looked  in  the  current.  This 
was  a view  not  to  be  lost ; and  we  clambered  on  the 
rocks  to  a high  point  overlooking  the  boat  and  the  crowd, 
which  was  steadily  increasing.  I think  there  were  a hun- 
dred naked  boys  and  girls  around  us  vociferating  for 
bucksheesh.  Whips  and  clubs  were  of  no  use  whatever. 
They  thronged  us. 

The  boat  certainly  looked  gallantly,  and  most  gallant 
of  all  was  Hajji  Mohammed,  our  prince  of  cooks.  I think 
I have  mentioned  that  the  kitchen  occupies  the  extreme 
bow  of  the  boat,  forward  of  the  mast ; and  as  there  is  no 


PHIL^  THE  BEAUTIFUL. 


267 


bowsprit  or  forward  rigging,  there  was  nothing  to  inter- 
rupt the  view  forward  from  his  stand.  But  he  was 
steadily  at  work  boning  a fowl,  and  attending  to  his 
usual  duties  as  quietly  as  if  she  were  lying  at  anchor  in  a 
calm.  A dozen  naked  Nubians  were  sitting  forward  of 
the  kitchen,  and  clinging  to  its  sides,  but  he  paid  no  at- 
tention to  them  whatever,  nor  did  he  once  cease  his 
work  in  all  the  passage  of  the  cataract.  Enough  for  him 
that  we  had  ordered  an  early  dinner,  and  he  Avas  hasten- 
ing it  as  fast  as  possible. 

Now  they  announced  the  boat  ready  for  her  last 
trial.  An  immense  hawser  was  made  fast  literally  around 
the  boat,  and  this  was  long  enough  for  two  hundred  men 
to  take  hold  of  The  sail  was  stowed  away ; no  one  could 
manage  it  in  this  place.  And  now  with  a long  steady 
song,  and  as  steady  a pull  as  they  could  make,  the 
Phantom  entered  the  gate  and  mounted  the  rapid,  and 
emerged  from  Egypt  into  Nubia  up  the  last  reach  of  the 
cataract.  Tumbling  overboard  every  body  but  the  reises 
and  their  immediate  attendants,  with  the  sails  shaken  out 
to  the  breeze,  we  swept  on,  now  to  the  left,  around  a 
lofty  pile  of  rocks,  and  now  to  the  right,  opening  before 
us  the  loveliest  view  in  all  Egypt,  perhaps  in  all  the  world, 
the  burial-place  of  Osiris,  the  beautiful  Philae. 

The  island  of  Philae,  lying  at  the  head  of  the  cataract 
of  the  Nile,  is  in  one  of  the  most  wild  and  picturesque 
spots  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  High  black  rocks,  heaped 
up  to  the  sky,  lie  all  around  it ; and  from  any  point  of 
view,  it  is  a jewel  set  in  a -rough  inclosure,  to  make  it  the 
more  beautiful  by  contrast.  The  entire  surface  of  the 
island  is  covered  with  ruins,  the  great  temple  of  Isis, 
which  is  the  most  perfect  among  them,  occupying  the 
western  side.  It  is  not  of  a very  ancient  period.  One 
learns  in  Egypt  to  call  every  thing  modern  that  is  not 
three  thousand  years  old  ; and  the  temples  of  the  Ptole- 


268 


REVERENCE  FOR  THE  OLD. 


mies  are  of  less  interest  after  one  begins  to  learn  the  his- 
tory of  the  Pharaohs  of  older  times,  and  look  on  their 
monuments.  It  is  a strange  j^assion  this  that  men  have 
for  the  old.  What  is  it  in  the  intellect  of  man  that  makes 
him  do  such  homage  to  age — to  great  age  ? Is  it  be- 
cause we  always  admire  the  inaccessible,  and  that  we, 
whose  dust  holds  together  but  seventy  years,  therefore 
admire  the  dust  that  has  outlived  thirty  centuries?  I^ot 
so ; because  the  hills  and  mountains  of  our  own  country 
are  old  enough  for  all  that.  It  is  not  age  alone.  It  is 
something  in  the  fact,  that  human  hands  wrought  on 
these  rocks ; that  human  intellect  shaped  and  planned 
their  order.  It  is  the  memorial  of  dead  men’s  thoughts 
to  which  we  bow  in  reverence ; and  perhaps  it  is  some- 
what akin  to  our  own  desires  after  immortality.  Per- 
haps the  feverish  thirst  of  the  boy  for  fame — the  thirst 
that  long  life  can  never  satisfy — is  somewhat  similar 
to  the  profound  awe  with  which  he  looks  on  the  carved 
name  of  an  ancient  king,  or  the  exquisite  sculpture  of  an 
ancient  artist.  And  men  are  but  grown-up  boys ; and 
the  boy’s  anxiety  for  fame  may  have  vanished  among 
the  more  immediate  and  practical  desires  of  manhood, 
but  the  admiration  for  the  fame  of  others,  and  the  venera- 
tion for  the  mere  approximation  to  immortality  which  he 
fancies  he  sees  in  the  ruins  of  old  temples  and  palaces, 
lingers  with  him ; nor  does  it  leave  him  ever. 

But  there  is  something  more  than  all  this,  which  we  all 
feel,  but  which  none  of  us  can  Avell  explain,  when  we  look 
on  an  ancient  ruin,  and  which  makes  the  difference  be- 
tween old  hills  and  old  houses.  If  one  fell  on  the  ruin  of 
an  ancient  shop,  wherein  men  of  old  times  bought  and 
sold  goods  and  wares,  there  would  not  be  any  very  pro- 
found admiration  excited,  nor  would  he  sit  down  long  to 
reflect  on  the  scenes  which  had  occurred  within  those 
walls.  Still  less  did  he  discover  a butcher’s  stall  or  a 


EMOTIONS  OF  LONG  AGO. 


269 


drinkirig-sliop.  The  ordinary  employments  of  men  in 
former  ages  interest  us,  but  only  momentarily. 

TVe  stroll  through  Pompeii  with  interest,  astonishment, 
and  melancholy  delight,  if  I may  use  the  expression,  and 
we  remember  its  shops  and  counters  as  curious  places,  but 
w^e  scarcely  think  of  the  men  that  stood  in  those  shops 
and  bought  and  sold  by  those  weights  and  measures. 
But  "what  thrilling  imagination  does  that  mould  of  a 
young  breast  arouse!  The  memorials  of  the  hearts  of 
ancient  men  and  women,  of  their  great  emotions,  their 
passions,  most  challenge  our  respect  and  fix  our  minds. 
The  houses  in  which  they  lived  remind  us  of  these,  in 
that  we' recall  the  home  scenes,  tlie  thousand  afiections  of 
home ; and  man’s  love  always  sanctifies  a place.  But  the 
palaces  in  which  they  reigned,  where  all  day  long,  and 
all  the  year  long,  were  heard  the  sounds  of  royalty,  with 
which  are  always  mingled  the  fiercest  emotions  of  hu- 
manity, the  temples  in  which  their  altar  fires  burned, 
and  their  hearts  burned  as  well,  these  are  the  ]fiaces  in 
which  the  foot  of  the  thoughtful  man  lingers,  from  day- 
light and  sunshine  till  sunset  and  moonlight  hallow  them 
with  softer  rays,  and  around  which  he  sees  always  in  sun- 
shine or  moonlight  the  flitting  shadows  of  ancient  memo- 
ries. Altars  are  crumbled,  and  altar  fires  have  long  been 
quenched,  but  the  memory  of  men’s  worship  remains  to 
sanctify,  and  the  impress  of  their  tears  is  visible  in  the 
crumbling  pavements. 

Philae  was  the  most  sacred  spot  in  Egypt.  Hither, 
from  all  directions,  men  came  for  worship.  But  none 
w^ere  admitted  to  set  their  feet  on  the  sacred  island  ex- 
cept by  special  order.  Here  was  the  fabled  burial-place 
of  Osiris,  or  near  here,  for  antiquarians  dispute  much  on 
this  point.  But  in  the  temple  of  Isis  is  now  found  a re- 
markable subterranean  vault,  near  the  holy  of  holies,  from 
which  a concealed  stairway  passes  tlirough  the  solid  walls 


270 


MOONLIGHT  ON  PIIIL^. 


of  the  temple  up  to  the  roof,  and  which  gives  every  indi- 
cation of  having  been  used  by  the  priests  for  their  secret 
purposes,  possibly  to  show  to  strangers  as  the  grave  of 
the  great  Osiris. 

But  for  the  present  I have  nothing  to  do  with  ancient 
Philae.  It  is  only  the  modern ; the  palm-trees  and  the 
ruins ; the  fallen  altars  and  columns  that  I have  to  speak 
of.  They  lay  in  the  utmost  beauty  of  desolateness  as  the 
moonlight  came  over  them  that  night,  and  we  wandered 
about  among  their  wastes. 

Again  I might  write,  as  I have  written  before,  never 
was  such  moonlight — certainly  never  was  such  a place  for 
moonlight.  It  fell  on  the  columns  of  the  ancient  temple 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  island,  and  the  small  obelisk 
seemed  to  grow  larger  in  the  silver  light.  It  lingered  in 
the  great  court  of  the  temple  of  Isis,  as  if  it  loved  the 
memories  that  resided  there.  But  purest,  holiest  of  all, 
it  fell  in  the  open  temple  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  island, 
where  Miriam  and  I sat  silently  as  the  night  swept  along 
with  its  load  of  glory,  while  the  others  wandered  up  and 
down  the  island  looking  vainly  for  one  spot  more  beauti- 
ful than  another. 

Our  American  friends  were  with  us  still,  and  it  was 
now  time  for  their  return  to  Es  Souan.  Donkeys  had 
been  ordered  to  be  ready  for  them  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river,  and,  taking  them  in  the  small  boat,  I pulled 
across  to  the  main  land.  The  boys  stood  under  the  palm- 
trees,  but  when  they  were  mounted  and  ready  to  be 
away,  I could  not  permit  them  to  go  alone  and  un- 
attended through  the  wildest  and  perhaps  the  most  dan- 
gerous mountain  pass  in  Egypt ; for  the  men  of  the 
cataract — the  shellalee^  as  they  are  called — are  not  much 
more  merciful  or  human  in  disposition  than  the  wolves 
and  hyenas  which  abound  among  their  hills,  and  I felt 
unwilling  to  trust  my  friends — one  of  them  a young 


THE  PASS  OF  THE  CATARACT. 


271 


and  delicate  lady — to  the  mercy  of  either  class  of  brutes. 
So  I accompanied  them  myself,  with  a six-barrelled  Colt 
and  an  endless  volcanic  repeater.  I walked  along  by 
their  side  in  pleasant  talk  across  the  arm  of  the  desert 
on  which  stands  the  village,  under  a branching  sycamore 
that  grew  up  from  the  very  sand  itself,  and  then  into  the 
wilderness  of  rocks  that  lie  as  the  hands  of  the  Almighty 
cast  them,  here  and  there  and  everywhere,  on  the  east 
bank  of  the  river.  It  was  a strange  group  that,  for  such 
a scene  and  such  a night.  Sometimes  the  donkeys 
climbed  the  sides  of  rocks  on  which  their  feet  seemed 
scarcely  able  to  retain  foothold ; often  they  passed 
through  narrow  chasms,  that  seemed  impassable  till  we 
had  tried  them.  The  hills  grew  higher  on  the  right,  the 
noise  of  the  cataract  louder  on  the  left,  the  scene  more 
wild,  the  moonlight  more  beautiful.  And  so  we  con- 
tinued until  I had  accompanied  them  beyond  the  mount- 
ain pass  and  into  the  more  open  and  safe  country  which 
lies  along  the  line  of  the  portage  from  Es  Souan  around 
the  cataract,  and  here  I left  them  to  pursue  their  w^ay 
downward  to  their  boat,  and  thence  to  Cairo,  while  I 
turned  my  back  and  again  resumed  my  way  southward 
toW'ard  the  tropic,  toward  Abou  Sirabal  and  the  second 
cataract. 

I know  no  point  in  my  wanderings  at  which  I felt  so 
much  the  distance  from  home,  or  that  I was  leaving  all 
that  bound  and  connected  me  to  that  home  as  here. 

Behind  me  lay  Egypt.  Close  behind  me  the  only  two 
Americans  (except  ourselves)  wdthin  almost  a thousand 
miles,  had  their  faces  turned  northward,  and  w’ere  leaving 
us  to  our  lonesome  journey.  Around  me  was  desolation, 
its  very  abode,  where  the  rock  and  desert  held  every 
thing.  At  my  right  the  roar  of  the  rapid,  sounding  as 
when  the  Greeks  heard  it,  warned  me,  as  it  warned  the 
Romans  of  old,  that  I had  passed  “far  Syene,”  and  that 


212 


p II I L Ji: . 


the  world  lay  behind  me  and  unknown  wastes  before* 
Grim,  silent,  solemn  rocks,  lifting  their  dark  countenances 
in  the  air,  looked  on  me  with  stern  gaze,  that  sometimes 
seemed,  in  the  clear  moonlight,  to  change  into  a smile  of 
contempt,  and  sometimes  into  a sneer  of  derision.  AVhat 
was  I,  a puny  mortal  of  six  feet,  in  these  slow-coming 
years,  what  was  I,  that  I should  be  walking  so  carelessly 
and  recklessly  along  that  mighty  river,  by  the  far-famed 
cataract,  in  that  light  that  had  guided  the  footsteps  of 
kings  and  priests  ages  ago,  among  those  stately  rocks 
that  had  been  the  witness-bearers  of  forty  centuries  ? 
What  was  I,  that  I should  look  with  unshrinking  eyes  on 
all  these  ancient  memorials,  and  troll  a song — a dashing 
modern  song — as  I walked  among  them  ? For  an  in- 
stant a shudder  came  over  me,  and  I verily  feared  lest 
the  old  guardians  of  the  barrier  should  stop  me  there. 
But  that  was  a momentary  half-defined  feeling  that  van- 
ished on  the  instant,  and  I gathered  my  wits  together  as 
well  as  I was  able,  and  walked  on  over  sand  and  stone,  as 
I fancied  millions  had  walked,  in  years  when  there  was  a 
shrine  for  devout  worship  on  the  beautiful  island,  on 
moonlight  pilgrimages  to  Philce. 


liF  0 0 11 1 i g 1)  t • 

I WAS  weary.  I know  not  why, 
but  I was  weary  that  night,  and  I 
thought,  as  I trod  the  wild  j^ath 
among  the  cliffs,  of  a fireside  in  a 
far  off  land,  by  which  could  I but 
have  warmed  my  feet,  I would  have 
lain  down  content  to  sleep  such 
sleep  as  God  giveth  his  beloved,  and 
wander  never  again.  I wondered 
whether  I really  knew  Avhat  sleep  was.  Sometimes  I 
thought  I had  not  slept  for  months,  and  I had  not,  save 
only  that  dreamy,  restless  sleep  that  is  filled  with  visions 
of  dear  faces  looking  on  me  through  impassable  bars,  or 
out  of  unapproachable  distances.  And  that  night,  as  I 
walked  along,  the  moonlight  falling  all  around  me  out  of 
that  fathomless  sky,  I felt  as  if  to  lie  down  on  the  sand 
would  be  blessed,  and  to  sleep  there  glorious,  if  I could 
but  dream  once  more  of  home. 

For  an  instant,  lonesome  and  weary,  though  I had  with 
me  the  dearest  company  in  all  the  world — for  an  instant  I 
thought  of  proposing  to  turn  the  boat,  and  go  down  the 
cataract,  and  northward  to  the  sea ; but  the  next  instant 
drove  all  such  thoughts  far  off. 

I have  described  the  pass.  The  high  black  rocks, 
12* 


274 


JACKALS. 


seamed  and  riven  witii  ancient  convulsions  of  nature  in 
the  childhood  of  this  old  world,  now  towered  on  my  left, 
and  the  river  ran  blackly  and  with  a heavy  roar  on  the 
right.  A low,  long,  snarling  bark  or  yell  startled  and 
stopped  me. 

It  came  from  the  river-side,  five  hundred  yards  before 
me,  and  was  followed  by  the  quick  barking  of  the  jackals, 
of  whom  I saw  three  or  four  dash  across  the  path  and 
disappear  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

The  first  bark  was  not  a jackal,  nor  was  it  a fox.  So 
far  as  I can  learn  there  is  no  distinction  now  made  in 
Egypt  between  those  two  animals,  unless  in  the  Delta.  I 
have  shot  a number  of  them,  and  the  people  call  them 
taleh  (fox),  and  abou  Vhoussein  (jackal),  indiscriminately ; 
nor  am  I able  to  learn  that  there  is  any  other  animal 
known  to  them  as  a jackal  than  this,  which  is  but  a small 
fox. 

But  that  the  voice  did  not  proceed  from  one  of  these  I 
was  very  certain,  and  the  more  so  as  their  sharp,  piercing 
bark  now  arose  furiously  and  increased  in  noise  ; so  that 
I imagined  a council  of  the  little  rascals  disturbed  in  a 
banquet  by  a wolf  or  hyena.  The  prospect  of  getting  a 
shot  at  either  of  these  animals  was  too  good  to  be  lost, 
and  I examined  my  pistols  and  advanced  cautiously  in  the 
direction  of  the  angry  disputants. 

I had  proceeded  two  hundred  yards  or  so  when  a 
second  loud  and  now  more  fierce  yell  or  howl  inter- 
rupted the  sounds,  which  were  then  renewed  with  tenfold 
earnestness  ; but  one  of  the  foxes  was  snarling,  howling, 
and  yelping  in  a broken,  disconnected  way  that  could 
not  be  mistaken.  Some  strong  compression  was  on  his 
lungs.  He  was,  in  fact,  in  other  hands  than  his  own.  I 
judged,  as  it  afterward  proved  correctly,  that  the  wolf 
had  made  a dash  among  his  foes  and  seized  one  of  them. 

I started  on  now  at  a fast  run,  and  at  length  the  ascent 


A WOLF  HUNT. 


275 


of  a rock  over  wliich  the  patli  led  broiight  'me  in  sight  of 
the  battle.  A large  wolf— large  here,  but  what  I should 
call  at  home  a very  small  one — was  standing  over  the 
body  of  a dead  donkey  on  the  shore  of  the  river,  and  half 
a dozen  foxes  were  fighting  him  in  true  Arab  style,  with 
terrible  voices,  but  at  a safe  distance.  One  poor  little 
villain  of  a fox  was  in  his  jaws,  and  he  would  shake  him 
for  amusement  occasionally.  There  was  no  need  of  it. 
He  was  dead,  or  shamming  dead,  and  I do  not  think  there 
was  any  sham  about  it.  There  certainly  was  none  when 
he  dropped  him,  as  he  did  a moment  afterward,  when  a 
ball  from  my  Colt  went  dowm  through  his  shoulder  and 
broke  the  bone.  The  howl  that  he  uttered  on  that  night- 
air  rings  in  my  ear  this  moment.  It  made  the  rocks  of 
Biggeh  echo.  It  filled  the  Avhole  pass  with  its  unearthly 
sound.  It  was  a long  wild  cry  of  intolerable  anguish  and 
pain. 

He  threw  up  his  head  as  it  escaped  him,  as  if  he  were 
invoking  the  gods  of  Lycopolis  to  avenge  him,  and  then 
leaped  into  the  water.  A second  ball  bounded  from  the 
stone  as  he  left  it,  and  went  glancing  over  the  river  in  the 
moonlight,  leaving  a sparkling  track  ; and  a third  dashed 
the  water  about  him,  if  it  did  not  hit  him,  as  he  swam  out 
for  the  current,  which  swept  him  downward,  and  I lost  him. 

The  silence  that  followed  was  as  startling  as  the  cry 
had  been.  Only  the  river  among  the  rocks  sounded  as 
steadily  as  it  had  sounded  through  the  centuries,  and  the 
moonlight  seemed  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  sound. 

Ten  minutes  afterward  I came  out  by  the  village  on 
the  sand  above  the  pass,  and  we  entered  it  in  search  of 
our  new  pilot,  a shellalee,  who  was  to  take  charge  of  the 
boat  to  the  second  cataract,  and  back  to  Philas. 

Under  a tree,  the  sycamore  fig,  in  the  middle  of  the 
village,  was  a curious  seat  which  is  not  uncommon  in 
Nubia.  It  was  circular,  made  of  mud,  on  a raised  plat- 


276 


HASSAN’S  MOTHER. 


lorm  of  the  same  material.  A seat  or  diwan  ran  round 
this  platform,  having  a high  hack,  so  that  a dozen  or 
twenty  persons  could  sit  here  in  a circle,  all  facing  the 
centre.  It  was  occupied  by  women,  who  were  busy  talk- 
ing over  the  village  gossip?,  and  who  answered  very 
pleasantly  our  inquiries  after  Hassan.  He  had  gone  to 
the  next  village,  which,  like  this,  consisted  of  two  rows 
of  mud  houses,  a hundred  yards  a|:)art,  with  the  moon- 
light on  the  yellow  sand  between  them.  We  walked 
through  them,  shouting  “ Plassan ! Hassan !”  and  at 
length  he  emerged  from  a low  doorway,  and  replied  to 
his  name. 

He  was  six  feet  two  at  the  least,  and  black  as  ebony. 
He  did  not  know  that  we  expected  to  sail  that  night  or 
he  would  have  been  on  board  ; so,  hastening  off  for  his 
baggage  (a  pipe,  and  an  empty  bag  in  which  to  bring 
home  dates  from  the  upper  country),  he  promised  to  join 
us  at  the  small  boat,  and  we  walked  on.  We  found  her 
where  we  left  her,  and  Hajji  Hassan  and  Abdallah  both 
asleep  in  the  bottom.  What  did  they  care  for  the  moon- 
light and  Phila3  ? And  yet,  I dare  to  say,  that  nowhere, 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  is  there  a moonlight  scene  more 
rich  in  all  that  reaches  and  rouses  the  heart  of  man  than 
was  that  same  view.  I looked  on  it  as  one  looks  on  the 
faces  of  a dream  when  he  knows  he  is  dreaming,  and  fears 
to  move  or  approach  lest  they  vanish. 

At  length  Hassan  Shellalee,  made  his  appearance,  ac- 
companied by  his  mother.  She  was  an  old  woman,  and 
though  it  was  but  a two  weeks’  parting,  she  wept  bit- 
terly, and  embraced  him  again  and  again.  When  we 
pushed  off,  she  begged  me  to  treat  him  kindly,  and  then 
knelt  on  the  moonlit  bank  and  prayed  for  him : “ God 
bless  him ! God  keep  my  son  ! Allah,  Allah,  bring  him 
back  safe  !”  and,  as  vre  crossed,  we  could  hear  her  mourn- 
ful voice  sounding  over  the  river. 


OLD  WOMEN  IN  EGYPT. 


277 


I know  not  Avliat  comfort  there  is  in  all  the  universe  for 
an  old  woman  among  these  miserable  people,  or  what 
hope  there  is  in  her  heart  to  keep  out  the  cold.  To  the 
young,  life  is  always  bright,  and  the  future  presents  joys 
in  anticipation,  as  well  to  the  poor  as  to  the  rich,  which 
are  enough  to  make  them  glad.  But  to  the  old,  with 
dim  eyes  gazing  on  the  sand,  and  feeble  footsteps  scarce 
prevailing  to  pass  through  it,  without  love,  Avithout  God, 
without  heaven,  saving  only  the  uncertain  belief  that  it  is 
remotely  possible  that  they  may  have  souls — a belief  ut- 
terly rejected  by  half  their  teachers — and,  even  when 
trusting  to  that  belief,  entirely  forbidden  to  expect,  in 
any  future  life,  to  meet  the  beloved  of  this ; hopeless  of 
ever  renewing  the  embraces  that  death  lias  unlocked  ; 
hopeless  of  ever  opening  their  eyes  again  on  son  or  hus- 
band, daughter  or  mother ; to  them  I know  not  what 
spirit  there  can  be  to  live,  what  endearment  to  life,  unless 
it  be  the  horror  of  death  itself. 

For  if  the  grave  were  pleasant,  they  might  long  for  its 
repose.  To  lie  down  in  some  pleasant  spot  under  the 
trees  and  find  rest,  even  though  it  were  dreamless  and 
eternal ; to  sleep  where  the  breath  of  the  wind  would  be 
laden  with  odors  of  roses ; to  have  resurrection  in  the 
sweet  scent  of  flowers  and  shrubs  ; to  have  sunlight  love 
to  linger  over  one’s  place  of  rest,  and  moon  and  starlight 
fall  with  delight  among  myrtle  leaves — all  this  would  be 
delicious  hope  to  them,  if  this  might  be.  But  a grave 
here  ! God  forbid  that  I die  here  ! to  be  laid,  cofiinless, 
three  feet  deep  in  the  dry  sand,  and  to-night  disentombed 
by  the  jackals,  or  to-morrow  by  the  wind.  Such  burial, 
and  no  immortality,  who  would  not  abhor  ? 

We  strolled  an  hour  longer  on  the  island.  The  moon- 
light was  brighter  each  moment.  Trumbull  and  Amy  sat 
down  in  the  front  of  the  great  Temple  of  Isis,  and  I could 
hear  him  occasionally  discoursing  to  the  ruins  and  the 


21S 


EGYPT  AND  NUBIA. 


moon  ill  almost  every  language  with  which  those  hal- 
lowed spots  were  familiar.  Miriam  and  myself  sat  near 
them  ; but  we  selected  the  shade,  and  looked  out  of  it  on 
the  wild  scenery  with  indescribable  admiration  and  awe. 
We  could  not  tear  ourselves  away.  It  was  midnight; 
but  still  we  lingered  in  front  of  the  Temple  of  Isis ; still 
gazed  up  the  shining  river  from  the  corridor  near  the 
small  obelisk  ; still  sat  on  the  terrace  and  looked  over  at 
Biggeh  and  its  lofty  rocks.  Yielding  at  length  to  the 
persuasive  breeze  th'at  freshened  every  hour,  we  came 
down  to  the  boat,  and  while  we  slept  she  S])rang  away 
before  it,  and  in  the  morning  was  far  up  among  the 
mountains  of  Nubia. 

We  were  told  by  the  reises  of  the  cataract,  that  our 
boat  was  the  first  which  had  been  taken  up  the  cataract 
in  a single  day.  They  solemnly  asseverated  the  truth  of 
this,  but  I did  not  believe  them.  Nevertheless,  at  noon 
the  next  day,  just  twenty-four  hours  after  leaving  Es 
Souan,  we  were  fifty-two  miles  from’ that  place,  having 
ascended  the  cataract  and  passed  the  evening  at  Philse 
in  the  meantime.  This,  I have  no  doubt,  surpasses  any 
thing  ever  before  done  by  a traveler’s  boat.  The  wind 
failed  us  in  the  afternoon,  and  I walked  a while  on  shore 
taking  my  first  view  of  Nubia. 

The  difference  between  Egypt  and  Nubia  is.  marked 
and  great.  Not  alone  in  the  color  of  the  inhabitants,  but 
in  almost  every  respect.  Egypt  may  perhaps  average 
five  miles  in  width,  exclusive  of  the  river.  Nubia  aver- 
ages just  about  as  many  rods.  This  is  seriously  true. 
The  mountains  of  rock  rise  abruptly  a few  yards,  or  at 
most  a few  hundred  feet,  from  the  river’s  edge,  and  in 
large  portions  of  Nubia  nothing  is  cultivated  but  the 
actual  slope  of  the  bank,  one  or  two  rods  in  width.  The 
inhabitants  live  on  the  scanty  supply  of  beans  and  doura 
(corn)  which  their  small  amount  of  land  yields,  but  chiefly 


MISERABLE  LIFE. 


279 


on  dates,  for  palm-trees  abound,  and  their  produce  is  most 
excellent.  The  people  are  generally  industrious.  They 
must  work  or  starve.  Their  clothing  is  simple,  many  of 
them  being  nearly  naked,  and  all  the  unmarried  females 
wearing  the  fringe  around  their  waists,  and  in  cold 
weather  wrapping  a piece  of  cotton  cloth  loosely  about 
them. 

The  women  plait  their  hair  in  heavy  folds,  which  they 
soak  with  castor-oil  and  with  butter.  Hideous  shining 
masses  cover  their  heads,  which  they  exhibit  with  all  the 
pride  of  a city  lady,  and  they  like  the  intensely  disgust- 
ing odor  quite  as  well  as  we  like  the  most  delicate  ge- 
ranium. 

The  i^eople  are  quarrelsome,  notwithstanding  their  in- 
dustry, and  many  Nubian  villages  have  been  burned,  and 
many  Nubian  bodies  have  swung  between  trees  and 
ground  for  this  bad  trait  of  character,  without  producing 
very  great  effect. 

One  of  the  features  of  Nubia  is  the  sakea,  or  water- 
wheel, for  raising  water  from  the  river  to  irrigate  the 
land.  It  is  seen  at  every  hundred  rods,  and  heard  all 
day  and  all  night  long,  creaking  a most  melancholy  and 
mournful  creak.  The  small  amount  of  land  which  each 
sakea  waters,  makes  the  contrast  with  Egypt  more 
forcible  in  this  respect,  and  shows  the  greater  amount 
of  labor  required  of  the  Nubian  to  produce  the  same 
result. 

I know  no  part  of  the  world  in  Avhich  life  is  so  very 
small  and  worthless  a matter  as  here,  nor  do  the  inhabi- 
tants themselves  appear  to  set  any  high  value  on  their 
OAAm  existence  or  that  of  each  other.  Life  is  but  exist- 
ence; nothing  more.  They  rise  from  the  ground  on 
Avhich  they  sleep,  or  the  heap  of  doura  stalks,  or  mat 
which  keeps  their  naked  bodies  from  it,  and  eating  a 
coarse  lump  of  corn  meal,  half  baked,  if  they  are  so  for- 


280 


NUBIAN  VILLAGES. 


tunate  as  to  have  it,  but  generally  eating  a dozen  dried 
dates  for  breakfast,  they  go  out  to  the  bank  of  the  river 
and  work  in  the  scanty  soil,  or  watch  the  sakea,  relieving 
their  companions  who  have  kept  it  going  all  night.  And 
when  the  day  is  done,  and  work  is  done,  they  sit  in 
groups  in  the  dark  or  in  the  moonlight,  and  talk  at  inter- 
vals, but  mostly  keep  silence,  passing  around  from  lip  to 
lip  the  small  pipe  of  native  tobacco,  and  one  by  one  rolls 
himself  up  in  his  own  nakedness,  curling  his  knees  up  to 
his  head,  and  sleeps  profound  and  dreamless  sleep  till 
morning. 

Their  huts  are  miserable  substitutes  for  even  the  vile 
huts  of  the  Egyptians.  Many  travelers  mention  the  con- 
trast between  the  Egyptian  villages  and  the  neat  cottages 
of  the  Nubians  among  the  trees,  speaking  of  the  beauty 
of  the  latter,  and  one  traveler  even  calls  them  “ neat  white 
cottages.”  He  must  have  been  far  away  from  Nubia  when 
he  wrote  that,  and  had  doubtless  forgotten  the  low  piles 
of  Nile  mud,  never,  or  scarcely  ever,  high  enough  for  a 
man  to  stand  erect  in,  which  constitute  a Nubian  village; 
and  as  to  trees,  I saw  none  in  Nubia  that  were  near  the 
houses.  On  the  contrary,  without  exception,  so  far  as 
my  observation  went,  the  Nubian  villages  were  built  on 
land  where  trees  or  plants  would  not  grow.  Soil  is  too 
valuable  there  to  be  wasted  for  building  purposes.  Hence 
the  houses,  which  are  of  the  rudest  form  and  smallest 
possible  dimension,  are  usually  built  m a honeycomb  mass 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  it  requires  a quick  eye 
to  detect  them,  their  color  being  similar  to  the  sand  and 
rock. 

One  night  I went  into  some  of  these  huts  at  a late 
hour.  No  doors  prevented  intruders,  nor  was  there  any 
safeguard  against  robbers.  The  inhabitants  lay  on  the 
ground,  huddled  together  in  masses,  sound  asleep  like  so 
many  hogs,  and  grunted,  as  hogs  would,  when  we  stirred 


AN  EVENTFUL  HISTORY. 


281 


them  uj)  with  our  feet  and  voices.  Life  in  such  a country 
has  no  great  amount  of  variety,  as  one  might  well  im- 
agine. 

There  was  an  old  man  that  I found  one  day  on  shore  as 
I walked  by  the  boat,  whose  history  was  strange  and 
worth  the  hearing. 

He  was  a puny,  dried-up  old  fellow,  whose  weight,  I 
think,  might  come  within  seventy  jDounds.  He  sat  on  the 
end  of  the  pole  of  the  water-wheel,  immediately  behind 
the  tails  of  the  bullocks,  and  followed  them  around  the 
little  circle  which  they  walked,  his  knees  up  to  his  chin, 
which  was  buried  between  them,  and  his  blear  eyes  gaz- 
ing listlessly  on  the  cattle  and  the  outer  wall  of  the  sakea, 
for  it  was  mclosed  in  a stone  and  mud  wall.  The  ever- 
lasting creaking  of  the  wheels — that  strange  sound  that 
no  other  machinery  on  earth  emits — seemed,  and  was 
to  him,  the  familiar  music  of  his  life. 

I questioned  him,  and  his  story  was  simply  this : He 
was  born  just  there.  It  was  long  before  the  days  of  Mo- 
hammed Ali,  when  Hassan  Kasheef  was  king,  that  he 
was  a boy,  sitting  on  the  pole  of  the  sakea,  and  following 
the  bullocks  around.  He  sat  there  more  years  than  he 
knew  any  thing  about,  and  grew  to  be  a man.  Life  was 
to  him  still  the  same  round.  His  view  was  bounded  by 
the  mountains  around  him,  and  he  never  went  beyond 
them.  He  rode  the  sakea,  and  at  every  circle  he  caught 
through  the  open  doorway  a vision  of  one  mighty  hill, 
with  a grove  of  palms  at  its  foot.  In  the  night  he  saw  it 
still  and  solemn  among  the  stars,  and  sometimes  he  had 
seen  tempests  gathered  around  it.  It  was  the  one  idea 
of  his  life,  and  it  was  something  to  find  in  such  a brain 
one  idea,  though  it  was  but  a rock.  He  looked  out  at  it 
as  he  told  me  of  it  with  a sort  of  afifection  that  I well 
understood,  but  which  surprised  me  none  the  less.  But 
so  he  had  lived.  He  grew  heavier  as  he  grew  older,  and 


282 


AN  EVENTFUL  HISTORY. 


then  he  could  not  ride  the  pole,  but  sat  down  in  the  door- 
■way  and  watched  his  bullocks,  looking  behind  him  often 
at  the  liill,  and  so  the  years  slipped  along,  and  age  came 
and  he  wasted  away,  and  when  his  second  childhood  was 
on  him,  he  mounted  the  pole  again,  and  was  riding  to  his 
grave. 

He  had  been  a great  traveler.  I know  not  how  many 
thousand  miles  he  had  been  carried  around  that  centre 
pin.  Had  he  never  been  aw^ay  from  the  valley  ? Yes, 
once ; he  climbed  the  hill  yonder,  and  from  its  summit 
saw  the  dreary  wastes  of  sand  that  stretched  far  away  in 
all  directions,  and  he  came  back  contented.  Did  nothing 
occur  in  his  lifetime  that  he  now  remembered  as  marking 
some  one  day  more  than  another?  Nothing.  Yes  ! one 
day  the  wheel  broke,  and  he  was  startled  and  frightened ; 
but  they  came  and  mended  it,  and  all  went  on  as  before. 

I left  him  there  to  follow  his  weary  round  till  death 
overtake  him ; and  if  I find  life  oppressive  at  any  time 
hereafter,  I shall  know  where  to  seek  a hermitage  and 
undisturbed  calm. 


^6. 

Jlie 

I DID  not  stop  to  look  at  any  ruins  in  ISTubia  on  my  up- 
ward voyage,  until  we  reached  Abou  Sinibal. 

We  tracked  a little  toward  noon  of  the  day  after  leav- 
ing Philic;  that  was  December  19th,  and  I walked  on 
shore  for  a while,  crossing  the  tropic  on  foot. 

Medical  treatineiit  had  been  demanded  from  time  to 
time,  along  the  river,  by  tlie  natives,  who  imagine  Franks 
omnipotent  in  medicine,  but  now  the  demands  were  op- 
pressively frequent. 

As  I was  walking  along,  gun  in  hand,  looking  after  game, 
which  was  very  scarce  in  Nubia,  a dozen  applicants  pre- 
sented themselves  for  the  treatment  of  ophthalmia,  sprains, 
and  some  bad  w^ounds.  I directed  them,  one  after  an- 
other, to  follow  up  the  river  with  the  boat,  which  was 
tracking  a half  mile  behind  me.  Arriving  at  a convenient 
spot,  I sat  down  till  the  party  arrived,  and  stopping  the 
boat  for  my  medicine-chest,  proceeded  to  administer  to 
their  wants  as  I knew  how.  It  was  always  a dangerous 
business,  for  if  a man  were  not  cured,  his  friends  would 
be  certain  to  lay  it  to  the  medicine,  and  if  he  died,  would 
seek  revenge  on  his  supposed  murderer. 

Tliere  was  one  case  presented  to  me  here  that  was  in- 
tensely horrible.  I beg  pardon  of  my  gentler  readers  for 
asking  them  to  pass  over  this  page  or  two,  unless  they 


284 


A I F E IN  NUBIA. 


'svish  to  be  shocked  by  an  instance  of  'svomanly  aflection 
that  surpassed,  in  my  view,  any  story  of  ancient  or  mod- 
ern history  or  romance  that  I liaA^e  read. 

A tall,  slender,  and  graceful  woman,  erect  as  a queen, 
but  naked  as  a Nubian  (great,  indeed,  Avas  the  contrast 
between  her  carriage  and  her  costume),  led  doAvn  to  the 
boat  a man  of  thirty  or  thereabouts,  AA’hom  she  called  her 
husband.  He  Avas  a splendidly-formed  felloAA’,  black  as 
charcoal,  but  A\uth  a frame  that  looked  as  if  he  could 
carry  a world  on  his  shoulders.  Its  developments  Avere 
manifest,  for  he  wore  nothing  but  a cloth  around  his  waist, 
and  a bundle  of  rags  on  his  right  hand. 

This  hand  she  unbound,  and  exposed  to  me  a most  hor- 
rible wound.  In  a fray  with  some  neighboring  A'illage, 
he,  holding  one  of  the  heaA^y  Nubian  clubs  in  his  hand, 
had  received  a blow  on  the  back  of  it  from  another,  which 
crushed  the  small  bones  to  a puljA.  This  was  some 
Aveeks  before,  and  the  hand  had  iioav  no  semblance  of  a 
hand.  The  fingers  were  one  solid  mass  of  fiesh,  the  whole 
SAA'ollen  to  enormous  size,  and  in  the  centre  of  the  back, 
AA^as  a hole,  an  inch  in  diameter,  from  Avhich  oozed  foul 
matter  that  made  me  sick  to  look  at. 

Noav  23ass  over  AA'hat  I am  about  to  describe,  I beg  you, 
fair  lady. 

The  AA'ound  had  not  been  washed.  The  whole  hand 
Avas  a mass  of  dirt.  Miriam  threw  me  a cake  of  soap  from 
the  AAundow  of  the  boat,  and  I made  the  AA’ife  wash  the 
hand. 

She  did  it  as  gently  as  a mother  could  handle  a dying 
child.  Her  fingers  could  not  cause  him  pain,  so  lightly 
did  she  move  them  OA^er  the  wound,  and  after  a few  min- 
utes I could  see  the  skin. 

It  was  a hopeless  case.  Mortification  folloAved  within  a 
Aveek,  I have  no  doubt.  But  I could  not  tell  her  so.  The 
lightest  touch  pressed  out  foul  discharges  from  the  open- 


WOMANS  DEVOTION. 


285 


ino*.  - I told  her  to  clean  it  out.  She  did  so  till  I could 

O 

look  in  it.  There  were  stringy  pieces  of  white  substance 
looking  like  jneces  of  the  tendons.  They  were  accumula- 
tions of  ropy  discharges,  and  I told  her  to  get  them  out. 
She  tried  with  her  fingers,  but  they  were  too  slippery, 
and  she  could  not.  Then  she  took  up  the  hand  and  put 
her  lips  down  to  the  wound,  and  took  one  of  these  foul 
pieces  between  her  teeth  and — I suppose  she  drew  them 
out — I didn’t  see  her. 

When  she  told  me  it  was  done,  I was  leaning  against  a 
palm-tree,  a little  way  up  the  bank,  with  my  tarbouche 
off,  trying  to  get  a little  fresh  air. 

I tell  you,  my  bachelor  friend,  that  woman  was  worth 
her  weight  in  diamonds,  and  she  was  a widow  within 
a fortnight. 

There  was  a boy,  who  professed  to  have  some  disease, 
and  after  thorough  examination  of  him,  I gave  him  the 
old  remedy,  a bread  jfill.  lie  took  it,  and  then  followed 
what  he  had  really  come  down  to  the  boat  for,  a demand 
for  bucksheesh. 

“ What  ?”  said  I. 

“ Bucksheesh.” 

I seized  him  by  the  loose  shirt’that  enveloped  his  act- 
ive limbs,  and  threw  him  into  the  river.  He  swam  like 
a fish,  was  ashore  in  a twinkling,  and,  as  he  shook  himself, 
demanded,  with  an  air  of  perfect  certainty  that  he  had 
now  a right  to  it,  “ Bucksheesh,  Ya  Howajji.” 

Toward  evening,  of  the  next  day,  we  came  up  to  Ko- 
rusko. 

Korusko  figures  largely  in  the  geography  of  Upper 
Egypt,  and  I had  expected  to  find  there  a village  of  con- 
siderable size,  if  not  a flourishing  city.  But  there  was 
nothing  of  the  sort.  There  was  not  even  an  ordinary 
village.  A few  scattered  huts  along  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  were  the  only  residences  of  the  natives.  Along 


286 


ABDUL  RAHMAN. 


the  shore  were  tents,  and  camels,  and  piles  of  goods,  and 
bales  of  various  sorts  of  merchandise,  for  this  is  the  point 
at  which  the  caravans  leave  the  Xile  to  go  to  Upper 
Xubia.  The  river  here  returns  to  its  course  after  a 
great  bend  to  the  westward,  which  bend  the  caravans 
avoid,  as  well  as  the  many  cataracts  which  forbid  naviga- 
tion. We  approached  it  in  the  evening,  just  at  sunset, 
and,  sending  the  boat  on  ahead,  we  went  ashore  to  walk 
through  the  grove  of  palms  which  covers  the  bank.  Wo 
found  groups  of  traders  around  their  camp-tires,  and  the 
effect  of  moonlight  on  them  became  very  picturesque. 
One  party  of  Europeans  surprised  us  not  a little.  It  ap- 
peared that  they  Avere  going  to  the  upper  country  on  a 
trading  expedition,  and  their  camels  Avere  ready  for  the 
journey. 

We  lay  all  night  here,  and  in  the  morning  tracked  up 
to  Derr,  the  chief  city  of  Lower  Nubia. 

We  had  sent  on  Avord  that  Ave  Avere  coming,  as  the 
course  of  the  river  from  Derr  to  Korusko  is  nearly  south- 
east, and  it  Avas  necessary  to  track  all  the  Avay,  no  Avind 
bloAA^ing  against  that  current,  and  Ave  Avished  additional 
men  to  take  the  ropes. 

Abdul  Rahman  Effendi,  the  governor  of  this  section, 
Avho  resides  at  Derr,  sent  us  doAAm  a small  army  of  nearly 
a hundred  men,  under  charge  of  Mohammed,  one  of  the 
sons  of  Hassan  Kasheef,'the  old  king  of  Nubia,  and  they 
took  us  up  at  a flying  rate.  About  eight  miles  from 
Derr,  Abdul  Rahman  himself  met  us  on  horseback,  and 
came  on  board  the  boat. 

■ He  is  a young  man,  Avho  has  been  a laA^orite  with 
Latif  Pasha,  and  has  been  steadily  promoted  by  him  un- 
til he  has  reached  his  present  elevation.  But  he  is  not 
exactly  contented,  for  he  is  in  a place  of  exile  to  a man 
of  his  peculiar  tastes.  He  Avas  accompanied  by  his  phy- 
sician, Avho  Avas  a keen  old  felloAA’’,  full  of  fun,  and  sharp 


A HUNDRED  WIVES. 


287 


as  a 'razor.  In  reply  to  liis  inquiry  whether  in  America 
the  law  made  any  distinctions  in  favor  of  the  rich  over 
the  poor,  I enlightened  him  by  the  history  of  some  med- 
ical men,  of  good  position  and  connections,  who  had 
recently  suffered  its  penalties,  and  he  seemed  greatly  as- 
tonished. I think  he  gathered  from  what  I said  that 
medical  men  in  America  were  not  the  most  safe  class  in 
the  community,  and  Avere  someAvhat  given  to  killing 
other  people.  But  1 disabused  his  mind  on  that  score 
very  soon. 

Abdul  Rahman  was  sent  to  Derr  some  time  ago  to  set- 
tle the  division  of  the  property  of  old  Hassan  Kasheef, 
the  last  king  of  Xubia  before  its  subjugation  by  Moham- 
med Ali.  HaAung  successfully  accomplished  his  mission 
he  waSj  sent  back  as  governor  of  Lower  Xubia,  not  pre- 
cisely to  his  own  liking,  for  he  Avould  haA'e  much  pre- 
fered  a place  below  the  cataract. 

He  told  me  afteiuvard  the  history  of  the  old  king  and 
his  property.  Hassan  Kasheef  Avas  a giant  in  his  day. 
He  AA'as  seven  feet  high,  could  eat  a lamb  for  his  break- 
fast, and  a sheep  for  his  dinner,  had  over  a hundred 
Avh’es,  and  left  more  children  than  could  be  counted. 
He  Avas  in  the  habit  of  marrying  every  girl  that  he 
fancied,  his  ceremony  being  simply  to  ride  up  to  the 
door  of  the  hut  in  Avhich  she  lived  and  fire  his  gun.  The 
people  shouted  instantly,  “the  Kasheef  is  married!” 
and  after  remaining  a day  or  two  with  his  Avife  he  went 
away,  and  she  never  heard  of  him  again.  Thus  he  had 
Avives  everyAvhere.  The  first  Turkish  governor  endeaA'- 
ored  to  reform  his  morals ; but  Hassan  could  be  a Mus- 
sulman in  all  but  that.  He  got  rid  of  all  but  seven  of 
the  women,  and  Avhen  he  died,  seven  years  ago,  these 
appeared  to  claim  a share  in  the  property.  But  there 
Avere  three  more  than  the  Mohammedan  laAv  could  rec- 
ognize, it  allowing  only  four  wives  to  one  man.  It  was 


288 


FRUIT  AND  WINE. 


tins  knotty  subject  that  Abdul  Rahman  was  sent  here  to 
untwist,  and  he  succeeded  admirably,  by  inducing  them 
all  to  submit  to  his  arrangement  and  make  an  equitable 
division  of  the  property. 

His  sons,  in  the  regular  line,  now  living,  are  fifteen. 
Their  names  are  almost  a complete  catalogue  of  the 
names  of  all  Moslems.  Suleiman,  Ali,  Daoud,  Rashwan, 
Mohammed,  Houssein,  Ibrahim,  Abdul-Rahwan,  Khalil, 
Achmet-Asim,  Mohammed-Manfouh,  Mohammed-Dahib, 
Mustapha,  Shahin,  and  Mohammed-Defterdar. 

Abdul  Rahman  and  his  physician  proved  jolly  com- 
panions. They  smoked,  talked,  laughed,  and  joked,  with 
the  ease  and  freedom  of  western  society.  Wine  they 
both  declined.  • Every  one  knows  that  the  Moslem  rc' 
lio'ion  forbids  'wine. 

® • 

They  ate  freely  of  pomegranates.  “Doctor,”  said 

Trumbull ; “ don’t  you  think  that  a little  wine  or  brandy 
with  his  fruit  would  be  proper  for  the  governor  to  take 
by  way  of  medicine  ?” 

“ Ko — I don’t  think  wine  agrees  with  Abdul  Rahman’s 
constitution,”  said  the  doctor ; “ but  I find  that  I need 
it  myself  with  fruit,  and  it  is  good  for  me.”  He  filled  a 
tumbler  with  Marsala,  and  poured  it  down  with  a sly 
wink  of  his  eye  at  the  laughing  governor,  and  after  that 
the  doctor  stuck  to  the  decanter  till  it  was  empty. 

I had  heard  all  along  the  river  that  the  great  temple 
at  Abou  Simbal  '^^as  closed  with  sand,  and  had  not  been 
oj^en  for  two  years.  I accordingly  requested  Abdul  Rah- 
man to  send  up  an  order  to  the  nearest  sheiks,  to  have  a 
hundred  men  there  on  the  day  I expected  to  be  there 
coming  down  the  river,  for  it  was  out  of  the  question  to 
leave  Kubia  without  seeing  the  interior  of  this,  the 
greatest  curiosity  in  Egypt — perhaps  greater  than  Cheops 
or  Karnak. 

Abdul  Rahman  was  most  hearty  and  earnest  in  his  at- 


CHAMELEONS. 


289 


tentions.  I regretted  the  imjDOSsibility  of  staying  a day 
or  two  with  him  at  Derr,  where  he  promised  us  all  sorts 
of  jollifications.  But  I had  work  to  do  at  Thebes,  and 
every  day  was  important.  He  sent  a cawass  with  us  to 
hasten  our  progress  above  Derr,  and  after  making  us 
promise  to  call  on  our  way  down,  he  suddenly  discovered 
that  we  had  carried  him  two  miles  above  his  house,  on 
the  river  bank  at  Derr,  and  shouted  to  be  put  ashore. 
His  train  of  fifty  or  more  horses  and  men  had  kept  along 
the  bank  by  our  side,  and  we  now  turned  up  to  the 
shore.  Chief  among  the  followers  was  Suleiman,  eldest 
son  of  Hassan-Kasheef,  a noble  man,  nearly  seven  feet 
high,  heir  to  his  father’s  fallen  throne. 

We  lay  a couple  of  hours  at  the  bank.  The  boys 
brought  us  lots  of  chameleons  which  abounded  on  the 
bean  vines  along  the  shore,  and  we  bought  them  at  a 
c.opper  each  till  we  had  more  than  we  wanted.  They 
were  a source  of  great  amusement  to  us  afterward,  fight- 
ing one  another  with  most  furious  slowness,  biting  as  an 
iron  rail-shears  opens  and  shuts  its  jaws,  once  in  half  a 
minute,  swelling  and  changing  their  colors,  now  brilliant 
green,  now  dull  gray,  now  straw  yellow,  now,  when  angry, 
covered  with  a hundred  shining  spots,  and  then  relapsing 
into  their  natural  brilliant  green.  They  remained  on  the 
boat  for  a month,  and  then  as  we  came  northward  died 
cue  by  one  until  all  had  disappeared. 

Toward  evening  we  left  Derr,  tracking  slowly.  Abdul 
Rahman  and  his  suite  rode  along  shore  three  or  four  miles 
with  us,  and  then  a breeze  springing  up,  we  left  him  and 
daslied  on  a mile  or  two  further.  Here  the  breeze  died 
away,  and  we  came  to  the  land  under  a precipitous  mount- 
ain, on  which  all  night  long  the  moonlight  lay  in  silent 
splendor.  We  sat,  all  four  of  us,  on  the  rocks  till  nearly 
midnight,  and  the  boat  of  an  English  gentleman  and  lady 
(residents  of  Cairo),  who  had  been  all  the  fall  on  the 

13 


290 


ABOU  SIMBAL. 


river,  joined  us  here,  and  remained  with  us  to  the  second 
cataract. 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  23d  of  December  that 
we  came  in  sight  of  the  grand  front  of  Abou  Simbal,  the 
most  impressive  of  the  monuments  of  Egyptian  grandeur. 
I say  the  most  impressive,  because  here  is  all  that  can 
impress  the  heart.  Here  are  the  remains  of  ancient 
wealth,  splendor,  and  taste  united.  Here  the  sublime 
idea  of  the  great  Sesostris  stands  graven  on  the  rock,  and 
the  men  of  the  nineteenth  century  after  Christ  respond 
with  their  hearts  to  the  call  which  the  man  of  the  four- 
teenth before  Christ  utters  on  the  face  of  the  mountain. 
Human  power  may  not  hope  to  accomplish  more  than 
this,  or  to  equal  again  the  magnificence  and  beauty  of 
this  temple.  It  was  the  thought  of  a kmgly  intellect  to 
hew  down  the  face  of  the  mountain,  leaving  four  colossal 
statues  sitting  before  it,  and  then  to  excavate  a temple  in 
its  very  depths,  and  leave  tlie  statues  of  the  gods  looking 
from  its  inmost  chamber  out  to  the  bank  of  the  swift 
Hile.  The  thought  has  long  outlasted  the  man — outlasted 
his  dynasty — outlasted  his  race  and  nation.  The  desert 
sands  have  in  vain  sought  to  hide  it  and  cover  it  up.  It 
is  the  grandest  remaining  monument  of  old  Egypt. 

Three  colossal  statues  sit  silent  and  majestic  in  a niche 
cut  in  the  face  of  the  mountain.  The  fourth  has  fallen 
into  ruin,  and  only  his  throne  remains.  The  sand  of  the 
desert,  yellow  as  gold,  flowing  around  the  end  of  the 
mountam  and  across  the  front  of  the  temple,  has  covered 
the  northernmost  statue  to  his  neck,  the  second  to  his 
knees,  the  throne  of  the  third,  which  is  vacant,  and  the  feet 
of  the  fourth.  The  doorway,  betvreen  the  two  middle 
statues,  is  not  now  filled  with  the  sand,  though  it  apj^ears 
to  be  so.  The  highest  ridge  of  the  sand  is  thirty  feet  in 
front  of  the  doorway,  from  which  it  slopes  each  way,  to 
the  river  on  one  side  and  into  the  temple  on  the  other. 


ABOU  SIMBAL. 


291 


It -had  not  been  our  intention  to  stop  at  all  on  the  way 
up  the  river,  but  I could  not  pass  those  stupendous  statues 
thus. 

There  are  two  temples  at  Abou  Simbal,  alike  hewn  in 
the  face  of  the  mountain.  The  smaller  one  is  two  hundred 
feet  from  the  greater.  A ravine  of  sand  comes  down  be- 
tween them. 

Trumbull  and  myself  looked  longingly  as  we  slowly 
forged  by  them,  with  a light  breeze  blovring,  and  I saw 
that  he  felt  as  I did. 

“ What  say  you  ?” 

“Let  us  stop.” 

Hassabo  put  his  helm  down,  and  we  ran  up  to  the  land 
between  the  two  temples.  To  our  surprise  we  found  that 
the  great  temple  was  not  closed,  as  we  had  heard,  and 
access  to  the  interior  was  not  impossible  though  difficult. 
We  could  sit  down  on  the  loose  sand,  and  slide,  feet  fore- 
most, under  the  top  of  the  doorway,  and  lying  down  on 
our  backs,  let  ourselves  down  the  hill  of  sand  that  sloped 
into  the  great  chamber. 

Eight  immense  pillars  of  square  stone  support  the  roof. 
In  front  of  each  pillar  is  a statue  seventeen  feet  high,  with 
folded  hands  and  countenance  of  calm  majesty.  Beyond 
this  is  a second  and  a third  room,  opening  at  last  into  the 
holy  of  holies,  where  the  altar  yet  stands,  before  four 
seated  statues  of  gods,  to  which  the  great  Sesostris  offered 
his  sacrifices  three  thousand  years  ago.  A screen  has 
formerly  crossed  this  room  in  front  of  the  altar,  but  it  has 
gone  long  ago ; doubtless  it  gleamed  with  gold  and  jewels 
once.  Nine  other  chambers  opened  in  various  directions 
in  this  strange  subterranean  temple,  whose  walls  are 
every  where  covered  with  legends  and  paintings  of  old 
triumphs  of  the  great  king. 

The  smaller  temple  of  Abou  Simbal  is  also  hewn  in  the 
rock  like  this,  and  presents  a front  much  smaller  but 


292 


BENI-  ISRAEL. 


more  elaborately  executed.  Seven  large  buttresses,  slop- 
ing backward  from  the  base,  have  between  them  six 
colossal  statues  standing.  The  temple  itself  consists  of 
five  rooms,  on  a smaller  scale  than  the  great  temple,  but 
possessing  quite  as  much  interest  historically. 

We  paused  a very  short  time  here  on  our  way  up  the 
river.  Wady  Halfeh  and  the  second  cataract  were  close 
before  us,  and  we  were  anxious  to  be  there  and  on  our 
return.  So  as  the  breeze  freshened  toward  evening,  we 
again  shook  out  the  canvas,  and  the  Phantom  again  sprang 
forward  to  the  gale.  The  mountains  of  Nubia  now  as- 
sumed a new  appearance.  Solitary  hills  rose  out  of  the 
desert  plain  like  sugar-loaves.  Others  had  long  levels  on 
their  summits,  and  some  were  covered  with  ruined  vil- 
lages. Behind  one  ruined  town,  which  the  men  called 
Difi*,  we  saw  strange  tombs  with  domes,  like  the  ordinary 
skeik’s  tomb  of  the  Mussulmans;  but  which  they  (the 
Mussulmans)  say  are  not  of  their  faith.  I think  they  are. 

Some  of  the  men,  when  we  asked  about  them,  said  they 
were  tombs  of  the  Beni-Israel  (children  of  Israel). 

We  passed  the  ruins  of  Ibreem,  which  gives  its  name 
to  the  finest  dates  in  Nubia,  much  prized  in  the  lower 
country,  and  as  the  evening  came  down  we  were  in  a 
country  whose  scenery  had  totally  changed.  The  desert 
views  were  distant  and  fine.  The  hills  scattered  and 
broken. 

In  the  night  the  breeze  freshened,  and  as  we  dashed 
swiftly  up  the  river,  Hassan  Shellalee,  the  pilot,  trusting 
entirely  to  his  good  luck  and  nearness  to  the  end  of  the 
journey,  went  to  sleep,  and  the  boat  brought  up  on  the 
rocks  with  a terrible  thump.  Then  ensued  a scene.  Such 
a row  as  we  had  on  deck!  We  rushed  out  and  found 
Abd-el-Atti  laying  on  his  whip.  Every  one  who  came 
within  his  reach  took  a full  share,  and  the  poor  pilot  got 
most  of  all. 


THE  BIRTH-NIGHT. 


293 


An  hour  afterward  we  again  grounded  with  a tremen- 
dous crash.  I thought  the  Phantom  was  done  for.  Abd- 
el-Atti  dashed  out  on  deck  and  cursed  the  unlucky  pilot 
with  all  the  phrases  known  to  the  Orient.  He  stood  it  all 
until  he  was  called  a Jew  and  a hog,  and  then  he  struck 
at  the  dragoman,  and  they  clinched  with  a yell  and  rolled 
on  deck  together. 

I don’t  know  exactly  how  we  managed  it.  Trumbull 
dragged  the  shellalee  out  by  his  bare  legs,  and  I hauled 
Abd-el-Atti  aft  by  his  ,coat — for  he  wore  a European 
overcoat.  They  clung  to  each  other  like  dogs,  and  it  was 
like  tearing  flesh  apart  to  draw  them  asunder. 

We  had  a midnight  session  of  the  court  to  consider  the 
case,  which  we  adjourned  to  the  next  day  at  Wady 
Halfeh,  warning  Hassan  Shellalee  that  if  the  Phantom 
struck  again,  he  might  address  himself  to  the  Prophet, 
for  nothing  short  of  Mohammed  himself  could  save 
him. 

The  day  rose  clear  and  glorious  on  the  desert,  and  we 
were  flying  on.  The  white  wings  of  the  Phantom  were 
stretched  on  the  fi-esh  air  as  she  swept  gracefully  uj)  by 
liill  and  island  and  village  until  at  two  o’clock  after  noon 
we  fired  a salute  of  ten  guns  to  ourselves  as  she  folded 
her  wings  for  the  last  time  at  Wady  Halfeh,  the  ultima 
thule  of  our  Hubian  travel. 

That  night  was  the  birth-night.  In  what  countries  of 
the  round  world  were  not  Christians  singing  carols  as  the 
sun  going  westward  left  the  holy  twilight  of  Christmas 
eve  with  blessings  on  every  land  ? 

Wherever  a man  may  be  on  Christmas  eve  it  is  j^ar- 
donable  in  him  to  give  at  least  one  hour  to  memory. 
And  if  there  be  not  the  broad  fireside  and  the  flashing 
logs  in  the  chimney,  if  his  far- wandering  feet  are  hot  with 
desert  sands,  and  his  forehead  is  burning  with  the  sun- 
shine of  Sahara,  he  will  be  excused  for  remembering 


294 


CHRISTMAS  EVE. 


with  even  more  distinctness  the  forms  of  old  times,  on 
which  the  blaze  of  the  Christmas  log  shines  so  gloriously. 

A few  rods  from  the  boat,  on  the  sand,  lying  down  and 
looking  starward,  I was  able  for  awhile  to  forget  Nubia 
and  recall  America. 

Able ! — I couldn’t  help  it — voices  called  to  me  out  of 
distances  that  I did  not  try  to  fathom.  Eyes  looked  at 
me,  but  I didn’t  think  to  ask  whether  they  wereAhis 
side  or  beyond  the  stars.  Lips  kissed  me— and  I never 
dreamed  of  their  being  ghostly  lips,  for  they  were  not 
cold — and  arms  enfolded  me — warm  embraces — and  hearts 
were  throbbing  loud  against  mine  as  one  and  another  of 
the  beloved  ones  of  old  times  and  all  times  lay  on  my 
breast. 


Ji)e  Seeoii5 

W ADT  Halfeii  (the  valley  of  halfeh^  a coarse  species  of 
grass)  is  on  the  east  side  of  the  Nile  four  miles  below  the 
last  rapid  of  the  second  cataract.  It  is  a small  village 
scattered  among  the  palm-trees  which  abound  here.  The 
west  shore  of  the  river  is  barren,  the  yellow  sand  of  Sa- 
hara j^ouring  down  to  the  water’s  edge.  To  see  the 
cataract  it  is  necessary  to  ride  about  seven  miles  on  the 
western  shore,  either  directly  along  the  water’s  edge,  or 
behind  a range  of  hills  that  are  here  much  broken  and 
scattered.  Small  boats  can  approach  very  near  the  foot 
of  the  cataract.  But  the  Phantom  could  not.  The 
khadi,  who  was  resident  post-master,  governor,  and  what- 
ever other  official  might  be  necessary  at  Wady  Halfeh, 
had  received  from  Abdul  Rahman  Effiendi,  by  express, 
news  of  our  coming,  and  was  on  board  with  proffers  of  all 
manner  of  attentions  so  soon  as  we  came  to  land.  But 
we  did  not  see  him  ourselves,  for,  having  taken  the  small 
boat  and  crossed  to  the  west  bank  of  the  stream  we  were 
lying  on  the  golden  sand,  picking  up  splendid  agates  and 
other  beautiful  stones,  until  the  sun  went  down. 

Early  on  Christmas  morning,  however,  he  came  down, 
with  from  thirty  to  forty  dromedaries,  horses,  and  don- 
keys, offering  us  choice  from  among  them  for  our  ride  to 
Abou  Seir,  and  such  as  we  selected  were  immediately  sent 


296 


DROMEDARY  RIDE. 


across  the  rh^er,  to  await  our  time  of  starting.  When  we 
were  ready  he  announced  his  intention  of  accompanying 
us  for  the  day. 

We  mounted  on  the  west  bank  near  a curious  crude 
brick  ruin  which  stands  like  a church  tower  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  river.  The  English  gentleman  and  lady  had 
arrived  in  the  night  and  joined  us  this  morning,  so  that 
we  were  six  Franks  and  about  twenty  Arabs,  forming  no 
small  caravan.  I rode  a fine  white  dromedary,  and.  the 
khadi  kept  close  at  my  side  on  a capital  horse.  Our  route 
lay  back  of  the  mountains  over  the  yellow  desert,  and 
after  traveling  slowly  a couple  of  miles  we  were  in  the 
sand  hollows  as  far  from  any  sign  of  life  or  vegetation 
as  if  we  had  been  a thousand  miles  distant  in  the  heart 
of  Sahara. 

“ Will  the  Howajji  try  the  Haggin  ?” 

Certainly  I would  try  him,  if  the  khadi  thought  him  a 
good  animal  (and  so  I began  to  get  his  paces  out  of  him). 
He  was  not  as  good  a dromedary  by  much  as  I have  seen, 
but  he  could  travel  fast  enough,  and  when  he  proposed  a 
race  I beat  him  easily.  Possibly,  probably,  he  let  me  do 
it,  but  the  dromedary  is  a swift  animal.  We  were  going 
fast,  I leading  the  khadi  by  about  a length,  both  animals 
warming  up  to  it,  and  one  of  the  attendants,  on  another 
dromedary,  close  behind,  when  five  gazelles  sprang  up, 
three  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us,  and  were  ofi*  like  the 
wind.  I shouted  to  the  khadi,  never  thinking  of  a gazelle 
chase  on  a dromedary,  and  pulled  uji. 

“ I have  no  gun,”  said  he. 

“ Here  is  one,”  said  I,  reaching  out  to  him  my  larger 
pistol. 

What  notion  the  dromedary  had  I know  not.  Perhaps  I 
used  a word  that  he  misunderstood,  for  down  went  his  fore 
legs  and  ofi*  went  pistol  and  Braheem  Effendi  together, 
striking  some  twenty  feet  or  less  from  the  camel’s  nose. 


THE  DESERT. 


297 


I was  not  on  the  ground  any  sooner  than  the  khadi 
who  was  horrified  at  the  idea  of  a dead  Howajji  on  his 
hands  to  answer  for,  but  as  he  sprang  from  his  saddle  I 
rebounded,  and  leajfing  into  his  place,  shouted  and  shook 
the  reins,  and  away  we  went  after  the  game  that  was  fast 
vanishing  over  the  sand  hills : all  this  had  occupied  but  an 
instant.  I looked  back,  however,  and  beheld  the  usual 
winding  up  of  such  a scene,  the  poor  camel  driver  on  his 
back,  the  khadi  pronouncing  sentence  and  the  other 
Arabs  around  ready  to  execute  it.  Miriam  interfered  to 
save  the  poor  devil’s  soles,  and  I went  on  after  the  ga- 
zelles. I rode  three  miles  on  a full  gallop,  but  the  drove 
of  gazelles  kept  just  ahead  of  me,  pausing  occasionally, 
as  if  in  wonderment  at  what  I could  be  riding  so 
furiously  for,  and  then  going  on  with  their  long,  easy 
leaps,  that  put  to  shame  my  poor  horse  in  the  heavy 
sand. 

Once  I had  got  within  two  hundred  yards  of  one  of 
them,  and  sent  a iDistol-ball  after  him,  but  he  only  leaped 
into  the  air,  I think  quite  ten  feet  high  from  the  sand,  and 
was  oft*  hke  the  wind. 

Still  I followed  them,  mile  after  mile  ; and  suddenly  I 
looked  around  me,  and  the  desert  had  closed  in,  and  I 
was  alone.  There  was  an  excitement  in  it  I had  never 
before  felt.  On — on  ! I drove  the  shovel  stirrups  into 
the  sides  of  the  horse,  and  we  went  like  the  desert  storm 
over  the  hills  and  through  the  hollows.  Sand,  sand,  sky, 
and  sand — nothing  else  was  visible  ! It  was  my  first  real- 
ization of  the  solitude  of  the  desert,  of  its  desolation  and 
loneliness.  I saw  at  length  something  white  lying  among 
the  yellow  gold  around  me,  and  riding  toward  it  I found 
an  empty  basket,  a broken  water-gourd,  the  pieces  of  a 
jar,  and  some  rags.  Was  this  the  spot  where  some 
desert  wanderer,  having  exhausted  his  last  drop  of  water, 
lay  down  and  died,  never  dreaming  that  the  Kile,  with 

13* 


298 


THE  SECOND  CATARACT. 


its  glorious  flow,  was  within  ten  miles  of  him  ? I picked 
u])  tlie  basket,  remounted,  and  rode  slowly  to  the  south- 
east, hoping  ere  long  to  catch  sight  of  my  companions 
from  some  hill-top  on  the  desert. 

In  a few  minutes,  four  of  the  Arab  attendants  came 
over  the  hills  to  the  eastward,  in  search  of  me,  and  rode 
up  swiftly.  As  we  went  on,  one  of  them,  thinking  that  I 
might  be  disposed  to  try  another  race,  challenged  one  of 
his  companions,  and  they  went  ahead  at  a furious  gallop. 
My  horse  looked  at  them  awhile,  and  then  pricked  up  his 
ears. and  went  ofi*at  a bound  after  them.  I was  close  on 
them  when  I saw  one  of  them  stagger  in  his  seat.  His 
saddle-girth  had  broken,  and  the  next  moment  he  and  his 
saddle  rolled  over  on  the  sand.  I went  over  him  at  a 
leap.  He  swore  I had  killed  him,  and  made  it  a plea  for 
a large  bucksheesh  that  evening,  which,  I am  happy  to 
say,  restored  the  erectness  of  his  back,  which  had  been 
lamentably  bent  before  its  bestowal. 

Five  miles  brought  me  to  a hill-top,  where  I saw  the 
l^arty  as  many  miles  distant,  moving  slowly  over  the 
sand,  and  in  an  hour  more  I rejoined  them  at  the  hill  of 
Abou  Seir,  on  the  second  cataract  of  the  Kile. 

This  cataract  is  less  a cataract  than  the  first.  But  the 
river  spreads  wider  among  more  minute  islands,  and  is 
broken  up  into  a thousand  streams,  up  which  no  large 
boat  can  be  taken.  The  rapids  extend  through  twelve 
miles,  and  the  breadth  of  them  may  be  from  three  to 
five,  but  in  this  space  little  of  the  river  is  visible.  The 
rocks  and  islands  are  covered  with  a low  shrub,  or  bush, 
somewhat  like  the  sont^  or  acacia  nilotica^  in  appearance, 
but  I think  it  is  not  the  same,  though  I did  not  examine 
it,  and  it  may  be.  The  green  appearance  of  this  makes 
the  view  over  the  cataract  exceedingly  fresh  and  beauti- 
ful, contrasting  forcibly  with  the  desert  around.  Under 
the  rocky  bluff  of  Abou  Seir,  the  last  plunge  of  the  Kile 


CARVED  NAMES. 


299 


is  seen  and  heard,  and  it  ascends,  with  solemn  roar, 
around  the  hill,  as  it  has  since  the  rift  was  made  and  the 
waters  let  through. 

Here  we  spread  our  carpets  and  our  luncheon,  the 
wind  blowing  over  our  heads.  We  read  the  names  of 
travelers  carved  here  and  there  on  the  stones.  They 
were  numerous,  and  we  found  among  them  many  friends. 
We  carved  our  own  here.  It  was  the  only  place  in 
all  my  Nile  travel  that  I had  been  willing  to  cut  my 
name ; but  I enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  readmg  those  of 
my  friends  so  keenly,  that  I could  not  forego  the  hope 
that  in  some  future  day  some  one  would  come  to  this  spot 
who  would  find  a momentary  pleasure  in  looking  at  mine. 
It  is  under  the  edge  of  an  overhanging  piece  of  the  rock, 
and  Miriam’s  is  by  it.  If  they  last  but  half  as  long  as 
some  that  we  found  there,  they  will  be  read  when  we  are 
dust,  and  when  the  stones  that  friends  shall  carve  at  our 
heads  will  long  ago  have  crumbled  in  our  stormy  land. 

EUot  Warburton’s  was  cut  near  Belzoni’s.  Before  the 
former  some  one  has  cut,  “Alas!  poor,”  and  no  one  could 
read  the  name  without  a passing  shadow  of  sadness  at  the 
memory  of  his  fate. 

The  romance  of  travel  is  well-nigh  over.  We  had  no 
discomforts  to  boast  of  in  Egypt.  We  spread  Persian 
carpets,  rich  enough  to  win  the  heart  of  a lady  of  gorge- 
ous tastes  in  New  York,  on  the  rocky  bluJl*  at  Abou  Seir, 
and  opened  a bottle  of  Chateau  Lafitte,  of  sparkling  St. 
Pei-ay,  and  of  Bass’s  pale  ale.  A luncheon-bag  from  the 
back  of  one  of  the  camels  furnished  metal  drinking-cups 
that  improved  the  ale,  if  they  did  spoil  the  claret,  but  we 
lunched  on  cold  turkey  and  sandwiches,  and  the  only  ro- 
mance about  it  was,  that  we  threw  the  foam  out  of  our 
cups  into  the  air,  and  it  went  down  two  hundred  feet 
into  the  cataract  of  the  Nile. 

Luncheon  ended,  the  moment  was  somewhat  serious. 


300 


CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 


There  was  nothing  beyond  that  point  that  had  any 
attractions  for  me.  It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  loiter 
month  after  month  along  the  great  river,  but  there  were 
pleasanter  loitering  places  in  the  great  world  we  had  yet 
to  travel  over,  and  I could  not  regret  that  I was  to  turn 
my  back  on  the  South.  One  long  gaze  into  the  distance 
above  the  cataract,  that  distance  so  imperfectly  explored, 
though  so  many  have  visited  it,  a half-uttered  promise 
that  when  the  world  had  nothing  else  to  be  seen  of  more 
interest,  we  would  return  and  find  our  way  up  to  Don- 
gola,  and  on  to  Kartum,  and  on — on — on.  And  then — 

“ Miriam — we  turn  our  faces  now  to  Jerusalem.” 
Standing  on  the  lofty  hill  at  Abou  Seir,  we  sent  west- 
ward, over  the  desert  that  stretched  away  across  Africa 
to  the  shores  of  the  sea,  westward  over  desert  and  sea, 
our  messages  to  the  waiting  hearts  at  home,  and  then, 
with  willing  steps,  turned  on  our  way  toward  Holy  Land. 

We  found  the  boat  dressed  by  Abd-el-Atti  for  Christ- 
mas. She  was  covered  with  green  palm  branches  from 
stem  to  stern,  and  the  cabin  was  a bower  fit  for  a queen. 
And  such  a dinner-table  as  Hajji  Mohammed  got  up  that 
day  who  shall  be  able  to  describe ! There  was  a turkey, 
made  drunk  on  brandy  before  he  was  killed,  and  conse- 
quently as  tender  as  a partridge — so  said  the  cook — and 
I saAv  the  brandy  administered  myself,  but  I can’t  say  it 
Avas  that  which  made  him  tender,  though  tender  he  w*as. 
There  was  a roast  goose,  wild  and  delicious ; four  roasted 
teal,  and  chickens  in  three  forms.  There  Avas  a pigeon- 
pie  made  of  macaroni,  and  one  whole  lamb,  with  folded 
arms  and  bent  legs,  and  head  and  tail  complete,  every 
inch  of  him,  stuffed  Avith  almonds,  raisins,  and  rice,  and 
done  to  a turn.  There  were  innumerable  dishes  of  ka- 
bobs  and  small  bits  of  meat  and  game,  and  there  AA^as  a 
curry  of  chicken  that  would  have  suited  an  Indian  gen- 
eral. Then  there  Avere  calves’-feet  jelly  and  blanc-mange 


northward  bound. 


301 


in  moulds,  and  mish-misli  and  apple  and  mince  and  pump- 
kin pies,  and  there  was  a cake  made  of  sugar  and  almonds, 
which  you  struck  with  a stick  or  a knife,  and  when  you 
broke  it,  out  flew  a white  pigeon  ; and  this  was  hut  half 
the  variety  wherewith  our  indefatigable  dragoman  had 
loaded  our  Christmas  table. 

That  night  the  w^eather  changed.  We  had  been  on 
deck  always  before  this  until  nearly  midnight,  and  now 
we  went  up  to  see  the  boat  illuminated.  Fifty  colored 
lanterns,  crimson  and  blue,  yellow  and  green,  were  hung 
out  from  all  the  spars  and  ropes  and  awning-posts.  Blue- 
lights  sent  their  glare  over  the  surface  of  the  water,  and 
altogether  it  W’as  about  as  strange  a scene  as  Wady  Hal- 
feh  is  likely  to  have  in  the  next  half  century. 

The  boat  was  rigged  for  the  return  voyage  ; the  great 
yard  was  taken  down,  and  laid  fore-and-aft  over  the  cabin, 
W’hile  the  small  yard  from  the  mast  at  the  stern  was 
placed  on  the  fore-mast,  and  the  deck-planks  w’ere  taken 
up,  leaving  the  seats  for  the  men  to  row.  At  midnight, 
when  the  wind  had  gone  down,  the  boat  was  cast  off,  and 
with  a long  shout  and  a new  chorus  she  swung  her  head 
to  the  current,  and  the  dowmward  voyage  had  com- 
menced. It  was  cold  and  clear,  and  looking  upAvard  one 
might  imagine  that  the  night  Avas  a Christmas  night  at 
home,  when  the  stars  hold  their  most  joyous  revel.  I sat 
on  deck  till  long  after  the  voyage  commenced,  and  then 
slept.  So  ended  Christmas  at  Wady  Halfeh. 


The  next  afternoon,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  we  aj> 
proacbed  the  rock-hewn  temple  at  Ferayg,  a few  miles 
above  Abou  Simbal. 

It  was  nearly  sunset,  and,  to  avoid  delay,  we  took  the 
small  boat  and  pulled  down  the  river  ahead  of  the  large 
boat  to  land  and  examine  it.  The  entrance  is  a plain, 
lofty  doorway  in  the  rock-face  of  the  hill,  without  orna- 
ment. The  boat  grated  alongside  the  rocks,  and  spring- 
ing out  we  climbed  the  terraces,  some  thirty  feet,  to  the 
doorway. 

Entering  the  hall,  the  roof  of  which  is  supported  by 
four  square  pillars,  we  were  astonished  at  finding  the 
l^rincipal  object  in  view  a picture  of  the  Saviour  on  the 
ceiling,  his  head  surrounded  by  a halo.  This,  like  many 
other  of  the  Egyptian  temples,  has  been  used  in  later 
years  for  Christian  worshq),  but  not  in  late  years.  I have 
much  veneration  for  these  evidences  of  the  faith  of  the 
early  Christians.  Here  martyrs  worshiped  in  days  when 
martyrs  suffered  for  the  name  of  their  Lord,  and  in  many 
of  these  places  martyrs  died  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  image 
of  their  Saviour.  There  was  an  inner  room,  opening 
from  this  hall,  and  I walked  into  it,  tapping  the  floor  in 
front  of  me,  as  was  my  custom,  with  a long  stick  which  I 
carried  in  my  hand  when  exploring  a dark  place.  I found 


BURIED  ALIVE 


303 


a solid  floor,  as  I supposed,  and  advanced,  but  as  I ent- 
ered the  dark  doorway  I stepped  on  nothing. 

There  are  moments  when  one  thinks  the  thoughts  of 
years.  I had  sounded  some  of  these  graves  in  rock-hewn 
chambers,  and  found  them  thirty  and  forty  feet  deep.  As 
I began  to  descend  I thought  of  those,  and  gave  up  all  for 
lost.  It  was  not  the  fate  I had  hoped  for,  to  die  in  a hole 
like  that.  I wondered  w’hat  sort  of  a paragraph  it  would 
make  in  the  newspapers  at  home  under  the  head  of  “ mel- 
ancholy occurrence,”  among  steamboat  explosions,  railway 
smashes,  suicides,  and  swindles.  I wondered  whether 
they  would  ever  get  me  out,  dead  or  alive,  or  whether 
they  would  not  come  tumbling  after  me  one  on  another 
into  the  same  trap ; and  then  my  feet  stiaick  bottom  and 
I shouted,  “ Miriam,  stand  back — don’t  come  in  here,” 
and  she,  hearing  a voice  from  the  tombs,  was  terribly 
startled,  as  well  she  might  be.  It  was  but  ten  feet  deep. 
It  might  have  been  fifty.  It  had  been  much  deeper  than 
now,  but  it  was  filled  up  with  rubbish.  I struck  on  my 
feet,  in  the  corner,  standing  upright.  I put  my  hand  in 
my  pocket,  took  out  a candle  and  lit  it  with  a match, 
caught  the  end  of  Mohammed  Hassan’s  turban,  which  he 
let  down  to  me,  and  he  and  Trumbull  lifted  me  out.  Till 
then  I did  not  suppose  that  I was  hurt,  but  when  this  was 
accomplished  my  left  arm  fell  powerless,  and  I was  not 
able  to  use  it  for  a month. 

I stowed  myself  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  my  shoulder 
aching  intensely.  The  others  took  the  stern.  It  was  a 
' calm,  dehcious  evening.  The  sun  was  just  gone,  the 
swift  twilight  had  come  down  on  us,  and  in  a few^  mo- 
ments starry  darkness  followed.  The  men  pulled  slowly, 
and  the  oars  made  the  only  noise  that  broke  the  pro- 
found stillness  of  the  scene.  Silence,  the  deep  silence  of 
ancient  countries,  that  which  every  one  has  noticed 
among  ruins,  and  which  was  majestic  always  ’ on  the 


304 


ILLUMINATION. 


lordly  Nile,  the  stillness  of  that  repose  which  ages 
have  but  deepened,  never  disturbed,  was  on  land  and 
river. 

Resting  awhile  without  rowing  we  lost  count  of  time, 
and  suddenly  began  to  wonder  if  by  any  possibility  we 
had  passed  the  Phantom^  which  had  gone  on  while  we 
were  in  the  temple,  and  was  to  wait  for  us  at  Abou  Sim- 
bal.  She  always  carried  a crimson  light  at  the  j)eak  in 
the  night  time,  but  we  could  not  see  it  any  where.  Trum- 
bull fired  his  pistol  three  times,  and  a moment  afterward 
we  heard  three  discharges  in  reply,  and  saw  the  red  light 
going  up.  Pulling  for  it,  in  a few  moments  we  saw  her 
lying  at  the  shore,  but  our  eyes  were  instantly  directed 
elsewhere.  Fop  in  the  light  of  the  stars,  calm,  unearthly 
in  their  majesty,  we  saw  the  forms  of  the  three  colossal 
statues  of  Remeses,  and  as  we  came  nearer  they  grew  in 
size,  and  looked  upon  us  with  that  cold  and  stately  smile 
that  has  been  wasted  so  many  centuries  on  the  fast  flow- 
ing river — and  that  seems  to  signify  in  those  rocky 
watchers  some  conception  of  the  destiny  of  human  life 
and  national  grandeur,  which  they  behold  aptly  typified 
in  the  everlasting  flow  of  the  drops  to  a distant  and  un- 
known sea. 

Mindful  of  the  brilliant  illumination  of  the  boat  the 
evenmg  previous,  at  Wady  Halfeh,  it  occurred  to  us 
that  we  might  realize  somewhat  of  the  ancient  glory  of 
Abou  Simbal  by  lighting  it  with  our  colored  lanterns. 

Abd-el-Atti  entered  into  the  idea  with  his  accustomed 
alacrity,  and  although  my  shoulder  was  exceedingly  pain- 
ful I w^ent  up  into  the  temple  to  advise  and  assist  in  the 
disposition  of  candles  and  lanterns,  while  the  ladies,  who 
did  not  go  into  the  temple  on  our  passage  up,  waited  on 
board  until  the  illumination  was  complete. 

The  sand  hill  was  almost  impassable.  It  was  like 
climbing  a snow  bank  fifty  feet  high,  the  feet  going 


305 


“BUCKSHEESH,  HOWAJJI.” 

in  deep  and  slipping  far  back  at  every  step,  so  that  Tve 
had  to  lie  down  and  breathe  several  times  before  we 
reached  the  top  and  descended  into  the  doorway  of  the 
temple. 

When  our  arrangements  were  comjDlete  we  returned 
and  brought  the  ladies  up.  The  procession  was  pictur- 
esque. Two  blazing  torches  led  the  way,  and  four  more 
brought  up  the  rear.  Our  English  friends  had  arrived 
just  after  the  Phantom^  and  joined  us. 

Never  since  the  days  of  Remeses  has  his  great  temple 
shone  so  brilliantly.  Every  statue  held  bright  lanterns, 
and  for  two  hundred  feet  through  the  long  rooms  we 
placed  them — rows  of  every  color,  shining  on  painted 
walls  and  lofty  statues.  The  altar  was  in  the  shadow — 
for  so  we  arranged  it — hiding  the  lights  behind  it  that 
they  might  shine  on  the  faces  of  the  gods,  and  not  on  the 
altar  front.  When  all  was  ready  we  called  in  the  ladies, 
and,  as  they  entered,  the  sailors,  who  had  busied  them- 
selves about  the  lamps,  suddenly  disappeared,  and  the 
temple  was  apparently  empty.  But  at  the  moment  of 
our  re-entering,  in  place  of  the  chorus  of  priests  and  at- 
tendants that  was  wont  to  arise  in  the  hall,  deep,  sepul- 
chral voices,  from  unknown  recesses,  uttered  in  loud  and 
terrible  unison  the  well-known  cry,  “ Bucksheesh,  How- 

ajji !” 

It  was  vain  to  resist  such  an  appeal,  and  we  answered 
it  instantly ; whereat  the  voices  changed,  and  the  men 
emerged  from  their  hiding-places  with  shouts  of  thanks. 

It  was  a gorgeous  scene,  worth  visiting  Egypt  to  look 
on  that  illumination;  and  we  sat  for  hours  in  the  hall, 
gazing  with  never-ceasing  wonder  and  awe  on  the  splen- 
did statues  and  lofty  walls.  Then  we  wandered  with 
torches  through  all  the  chambers,  scaring  the  owls  and 
bats  from  their  hiding-places ; and  when  it  was  nearly 
midnight  we  came  out  into  the  air,  and  there  lay  on  the 


306 


DESERTED  ALTAR. 


river  and  on  the  temple  front  such  a moonlight  as  ^ye 
dream  of  in  other  lands,  but  never  see  except  just  here. 
The  hoary  rocks  looked  like  silver,  and  the  gray  statues 
gleamed  in  the  mellow  light,  and  seemed  to  know  its 
beauty.  We  threw  ourselves  doAvn  in  the  sand,  and 
drank  in  all  the  beautiful  scene ; and  at  last,  when  the 
ladies  were  gone  down  to  the  boat  and  were  sleeping,  I 
re-entered  the  temple,  and  sat  down  in  the  centre  of  the 
great  hall  alone,  and  watched  the  fading  lights,  and  pon- 
dered on  the  old,  old  story  of  the  decay  of  empire. 

That  altar  seemed  waiting  the  sacrifice,  but  who  shall 
supply  the  victim  or  kindle  the  flame?  The  silent  gods 
sat  on  their  thrones  and  invited  worship,  but  who  will 
kneel  to  rock-hewn  gods  in  Egypt  now?  There  were 
times,  said  I to  myself,  when  the  tramp  of  armed  men 
and  the  rustle  of  soft  silks  were  heard  in  these  halls ; 
when  2^1’iests  and  princes  were  here  with  maidens  and 
matrons.  There  were  times  when  men  worshiped  at 
that  altar ; when  this  stone  was  worn  with  the  knees  of 
devotees.  Where  are  they  all  ? One  by  one  my  failing 
candles  answered  the  question.  One  by  one  they  went 
out  in  gloom.  A flicker,  a spark,  a little  smoke,  and  all 
was  over ; and  at  length  all  were  gone  but  three  that 
stood  behind  the  altar,  and  all  was  gloomy  except  in 
the  holy  room;  and  then,  suddenly,  as  if  a bat  or  an  owl 
swept  over  them,  they  too  vanished,  and  the  blackness 
of  darkness  was  around  me. 

One  can  hardly  imagine  a place  on  earth  where  a man 
could  be  more  emphatically  alone  than  I then  was  at  mid- 
night, two  hundred  feet  from  the  air,  in  the  deep  caverns 
of  Abou  Simbal.  Bats  were  flitting  around  me,  and  cer- 
tain sounds  were  not  pleasant  to  hear,  sharp  rattling 
noises  that  were  much  like  scorpions.  I had  killed  one 
in  the  temple  that  evening.  But  I have  felt  more  alone 
in  my  own  countiy  many  a dark  night  than  I did  here. 


NUBIAN  WORKMEN. 


307 


It  was  but  a few  paces  in  a direct  line,  and  when  I had 
taken  them  the  hill  of  sand  was  before  me,  and  up  this, 
creeping  on  hands  and  knees  through  the  doorway,  I 
emerged  into  the  iDure  atmosphere.  My  shoulder  had 
by  this  tune  become  exceedmgly  painful,  and  sleep  was 
out  of  the  question.  So  I managed  to  get  myself  up  into 
the  corner,  under  the  ear  of  the  great  statue  at  the  north, 
and  here  I sat  and  waited  till  fatigue  well-nigh  over- 
powered me,  and  then,  hastening  down  to  the  boat,  I lay 
in  my  bed  all  night,  restless  and  in  pain,  and  glad  to  wel- 
come the  dawn. 

While  we  were  at  breakfast  a confused  sound  of  voices 
outside  puzzled  us  not  a little ; and  on  going  out  we  as- 
certained its  cause  in  the  presence  of  about  seventy  fine 
stalwart  Xubians,  sent  over  by  the  sheik  of  the  village 
opposite  to  dig  out  the  temple,  in  obedience  to  my  in- 
structions at  Derr.  We  had  coimtermanded  the  order 
when  we  found  the  interior  accessible  on  our  upward 
trip  ; but  Abd-el-Atti  had  failed  to  transmit  the  direction, 
alleging  as  his  reason  a desire  to  impress  the  people  with 
the  importance  of  his  masters.  The  next  travelers  whom 
our  worthy  dragoman  takes  up  the  Nile  will  find  that  it 
was  his  desire  to  magnify  his  own  importance  for  future 
purposes. 

The  poor  fellahs  were  most  glad  to  be  excused.  A 
holy  hori’or  exists  in  their  minds  toward  digging  out  this 
temple.  They  have  been  several  times  compelled  to  it  at 
severe  loss  of  life  in  hot  weather ; and  they  laid  their 
hands 'on  the  tops  of  their  heads  with  profound  gratitude 
when  I sent  them  back  to  their  boats  to  re-cross  the 
river. 

The  mountain,  in  which  the  great  temple  is  hewn, 
slopes  down  to  the  river  at  an  angle  of  perhaps  forty-five 
degrees.  It  is  solid  rock.  In  the  front  of  this  mountain 
a niche  is  hewn  out  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  five 


308 


THE  COLOSSI. 


feet  wide,  and  deep  enough  to  allow  of  a perpendicular 
face  of  ninety  feet.  Across  the  top  of  this  perpendicular 
face  is  carved  a cornice.  In  the  niche,  when  it  was  hewed 
out,  were  left  four  gigantic  blocks  of  stones,  which  were 
cut  into  sitting  statues  of  the  monarch  whose  was  this 
great  work,  the  Remeses,  known  to  fame  as  Sesostris. 

Between  the  two  middle  statues  is  the  great  doorway, 
over  the  top  of  which,  in  a niche,  is  a colossal  statue  of 
one  of  the  gods  of  Egypt,  which  seems  less  than  life-size 
in  contrast  with  the  giants  in  front  of  it. 

Some  idea  of  the  size  of  the  colossi  may  be  gathered 
from  a few  of  the  dimensions  of  the  face  and  head  of  one 
of  them.  The  length  of  the  nose  is  three  feet  five  inches; 
height  of  the  forehead,  to  the  edge  of  the  cap  or  crown, 
twenty-eight  inches ; width  or  length  of  the  eye,  twenty- 
nine  inches ; T\ddth  of  the  mouth,  four  feet ; distance 
from  the  nose  to  the  bottom  of  the  chin,  three  feet; 
length  of  the  ear,  three  feet.  The  entire  length  of  the 
head  is  about  twelve  feet,  including  an  estimate  of  that 
part  of  it  concealed  by  the  cap  or  head-dress.  A remark- 
able circumstance  in  connection  with  one  of  the  colossi, 
the  second  from  the  north,  is  a fracture  of  the  right  arm, 
probably  contemporary  with  the  making  of  the  statue,  for 
the  elbow  is  supported  by  a stone  wall  under  it,  on  which 
are  carved  many  hieroglyphics. 

The  smaller  temple  stands  two  hundred  yards  to  the 
north  of  the  large  one,  the  ravine,  down  which  the 
sand  pours,  being  between  them.  Both  temples  are  of 
the  same  period — that  of  the  great  Sesostris,  whose  name 
is  carved  on  every  pillar  and  j^ortion  of  the  walls.  This 
great  monarch  appears  to  have  devoted  much  of  his 
wealth  to  beautifying  this  spot.  Why  he  chose  it  for  such 
expenditures  tradition  or  story  saith  not.  Xo  mounds 
remain  to  mark  the  site  of  an  ancient  city,  nor  is  there 
evidence  of  a palace  or  royal  residence  near  it.  Possibly 


ABOU  SIMBAL. 


' 309 


some  great  event  occurred  on  the  Nile  at  tliis  point, 
which  led  him  to  mark  the  bank  in  this  manner ; and 
future  ages  may  succeed  in  reading  the  story  on  these 
tablets. 

We  passed  the  forenoon  in  measuring  and  exarhining 
the  temple,  of  the  interior  of  which  I have  already  said 
sufficient.  I would  suggest  to  future  explorers  the  exam- 
ination of  the  wall  on  the  left  as  you  enter,  that  is  on  the 
south  side  of  the  great  hall.  I am  convinced  that  there 
are  undiscovered  chambers  within  this  wall,  which  may 
contain  matters  of  great  interest. 

As  we  left  Abou  Simbal,  shOotmg  rapidly  down  stream, 
we  passed  a niche  in  the  rock  in  which  is  a seated  statue. 
Had  I seen  it  before,  I should  have  paused  to  examine  it. 
None  of  the  books  mention  it,  but  it  is  worth  stopping 
to  look  at.  It  was  late,  however,  and  we  were  literally 
by  it  before  I caught  sight  of  it,  and  it  was  too  late  to 
return,  and  I was,  withal,  suffering  too  much  from  my 
wounded  arm  to  climb  up  to  it. 


29, 


ill 


We  reached  Derr  again  on  the  28th,  and  Abdul  Rah- 
man was  on  the  shore,  with  his  suite,  to  receive  us.  The 
large  boat  could  not  approach  the  city  for  want  of  water, 
and  we  accordingly  took  the  small  boat,  and  the  ladies 
sat  in  that,  and  dropped  slowly  down  stream,  while  we 
walked  with  the  governor  and  his  attendants  along  the 
shore  to  his  residence,  under  a large  sycamore  fig-tree, 
the  largest,  with  the  exception  of  one  near  it,  that  I have 
seen  in  Egypt.  Here  we  had  pipes  and  coffee,  and  here, 
to  our  surprise,  Abdul  Rahman  produced  various  presents 
which  he  had  been  collecting  for  us  since  we  went  up  the 
river.  Foremost  among  them  he  literally  trotted  out  two 
ostriches,  for  which  he  had  sent  off  to  the  desert,  and 
which  stood  up  in  the  square  as  proudly  as  desert  lords. 
It  was  something  to  own  ostriches,  but  what  to  do  with 
them  ? Either  they  or  we  must  move  off  from  the  boat 
if  we  took  them  on  board.  We  felt  very  much  like  the 
celebrated  individual  who  became  suddenly  possessed  of 
an  elephant.  A small  and  beautiful  monkey  was  much 
more  acceptable.  He  was  just  what  we  had  been  wish- 
ing for,  and  we  received  him  with  no  little  delight.  The 
ostriches  we  retained  in  our  possession  during  our  stay  at 
Derr,  but  when  we  left  we  were  obliged  to  return  them 
to  the  governor.  He  had  also  provided  sheep,  and  fowls. 


A SURPRISE. 


311 


and  IS'ubian  mats,  and  indeed  loaded  us  with  presents,  for 
all  of  which  we  could  make  no  return  then,  but  which  I 
had  it  in  my  power  afterward  in  some  measure  to  repay, 
by  procuring  for  Abdul  Kahman  a transfer  to  a post 
which  was  much  more  to  his  taste. 

We  formed  a procession  to  go  to  the  temple  of  Derr, 
not  very  similar  to  ancient  religious  processions.  Trum- 
bull, Abdul  Rahman,  and  myself  followed  the  ladies,  and 
a motley  crowd  of  naked  Nubians  followed  us.  The  en- 
tire city  turned  out  to  look  at  us. 

The  temple  is  in  sadly  ruinous  condition,  and  of  little 
interest  except  for  its  great  antiquity.  Amada,  a few 
miles  below  Derr,  on  the  opposite  side,  is  of  much  more 
interest,  as  well  as  possessing  much  beauty  of  painting 
and  sculpture.  We  passed  some  hours  very  pleasantly  at 
Derr,  and  then  returned  to  our  small  boat,  with  the  gov- 
ernor in  company,  and  pulled  down  to  Amada,  where  the 
large  boat  was  awaiting  us. 

Let  no  traveler  miss  this  beautiful  gem  of  antiquity, 
which  lies  on  the  sand  a little  v-ay  from  the  river.  The 
paintings  are  beautifully  preserved,  and  the  period  of  the 
temple,  not  far  from  the  date  of  the  Exodus  of  the  Israel- 
ites, makes  it  especially  interesting. 

Here  we  parted  with  Abdul  Rahman  and  the  doctor 
and  resumed  our  downward  joassage.  As  we  went  swift- 
ly down  the  river,  nearly  at  Korusko,  while  Seated  at 
dinner  table,  there  was  suddenly  a cry  that  came  in  at  the 
window  with  startling  effect. 

“ Ya  Reis  Hassanein  ?” 

It  was  from  a boat  upward  bound,  and  the  demand 
was  interrogative,  that  he  might  know  if  this  were  the 
boat  he  wished  to  speak. 

“ Ya  Reis  Abdallah,”  went  back. 

“ Stop,  O Hassanein — we  have  writings  for  Braheem 
Effendi !” 


312 


LETTERS  FROM  HOME. 


Letters ! Bralieem  Effendi  and  bis  friend  were  in  the 
small  boat  before  the  reis  had  time  to  shout  that  the 
letters  were  on  shore  where  the  Howajji  of  that  boat  was 
shooting.  We  pulled  to  the  land,  and  in  a palm-grove 
met  a gentleman  in  an  English  shooting-jacket  and  other- 
wise loosely  appareled,  for  the  weather  was  warm.  We 
did  not  jmuse  to  exchange  names.  He  handed  me  a 
package  of  letters  and  I thanked  him  heartily,  sprang  into 
the  boat  and  pulled  back  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  gladden 
those  who  had  suffered  more  than  we  who  were  stouter, 
from  this  long  delay  in  hearing  home  news. 

I had  an  opportunity  at  Thebes  of  thanking  Lord 
Paulet,  for  it  was  he  who  had  found  this  package  lying  at 
Luxor  on  Mustapha’s  table.  Knowing  how  welcome  its 
contents  would  be  he  brought  it  up  the  river,  directing 
his  men  to  look  out  night  and  day  for  our  boat  and  under 
no  circumstances  allow  us  to  ]3ass  them. 

Who  shall  describe  the  keen  pleasure  of  letters  from 
home  in  such  unexpected  jdaces. 

When  they  had  been  read  and  re-read,  I went  out  and 
took  my  place  on  the  cabin  deck,  where  I usually  sat 
facing  the  crew  at  their  oars.  Every  eye  was  full  of 
dehght,  for  every  man  enjoyed  our  pleasure.  There  was 
never  a Kile  boat  where  the  crew  became  so  strongly 
attached  to  their  employers.  This  was  the  effect  of  con- 
stant kind  treatment  and  attention  to  their  comfort. 

“ Have  you  heard  from  your  people,  O Braheem  Effen- 
di?” asked  Hassan  Hegazi,  who  pulled  the  stroke  oar, 
standing  up  to  it  at  every  pull. 

“ Yes ; this  paper  has  come  to  me  from  my  city.” 

Alas ! that  I knew  not  enough  of  Arabic  to  give  them 
the  idea  that  is  in  that  English  word  of  words,  home. 

“ How  many  mahatta  is  it  ?” 

Mohammed  Ali  established  Khans  along  the  Kile  for 
his  army  or  his  caravans  going  to  and  from  Upper  Kubia, 


DOCTOR  KANE. 


313 


to  rest  in.  They  are  at  variable  distances  apart,  but 
average  about  twelve  miles,  and  that  is  the  only  measure 
of  distance,  except  by  hours,  that  they  know  of  here. 

“ It  is  many  mahatta — more  than  five  hundred.” 

“ Mashallah ! Tell  us  the  news  from  your  city,  Bra- 
heem  Efiendi,” 

“ I will.  Do  you  know  that  there  is  a country  away 
north  of  this  where  it  is  always  cold,  and  ice  and  snow  ?” 
“We  have  seen  snow.” 

“ Yes ; but  there  it  is  always  snow.  The  water  is  all 
ice,  and  the  land  all  white  with  snow ; and,  years  ago, 
there  was  a brave  Englishman  sailed  to  that  country  in 
his  ship,  to  find  a way  through  the  ice  to  countries  be- 
yond, and  he  never  came  back.” 

“ Inshallah !” 

“ And  before  I left  my  city,  there  was  an  American,  a 
young  man  of  most  excellent  heart  and  exceeding  brave 
spirit,  who  went  out  in  a ship  to  find  the  Englishman,  and 
bring  him  to  his  own  city  and  his  wife  ; but  he  was  not 
heard  of  again,  for  he  too  did  not  come  back  from  the 
country  of  cold.” 

“ Bismillah !” 

“ And  then  the  government  in  my  city  {heled  is  the 
only  Arabic  word  to  express  city,  country,  or  state,  to  the 
intelligence  of  the  common  classes)  sent  out  another  ship 
to  find  them ; and  when  I came  from  America,  they  had 
gone  to  the  land  of  cold  I” 

“ Mashallah  ! another !” 

“ And  these  writings  tell  me  that  the  last  ship,  sailing 
in  the  great  ocean,  saw  another  ship  lying  in  a harbor, 
which  had  in  it  the  very  men  they  were  seeking,  who 
had  traveled  far  over  snow  and  ice,  and  found  this  ship, 
and  were  going  to  England,  all  safe  and  well.” 

“ Allahu  Akbar  !”  and  they  shouted  all  together  over 
the  safety  of  Kane  and  his  companions. 

14 


314 


A HEAVY  SEA. 


It  was  nearly  midnight  when  we  reached  Saboa — the 
Valley  of  Lions,  so  called  from  the  lion  sphinxes,  an 
avenue  of  which  was  in  front  of  the  temple.  The  moon 
was  lip,  and  we  determined  to  see  the  temple  and  go  on. 
Coming  to  the  land  near  the  village,  we  climbed  the 
bank,  and  found  profound  stillness  among  the  huts.  Xot 
even  a dog  barked  at  us.  There  was  a donkey  tied  near 
the  houses,  and  Abd-el-Atti  mounted  him  and  performed 
some  feats  of  riding  for  general  amusement,  but  no  one 
awoke.  They  sleep  soundly,  these  poor  dogs  of  Xubians. 
So  we  walked  up  to  the  temple  and  around  it,  and  viewed 
its  ruins,  and  returned  to  the  boat  and  were  away.  These 
moonlight  views  are,  after  all,  the  pleasantest  memories 
we  shall  have  of  Egypt.  The  temple  at  Saboa  dates  from 
the  time  of  the  great  Remeses,  and  around  it  hang  the 
memories  of  thirty  centuries.  It  is  as  well  to  have  seen 
such  a spot  in  the  silver  light  of  the  moon,  and  not  by 
broad  day,  for  one  can  thus  better  imagine  it  the  abode 
of  ancient  stories.  The  men  had  other  ideas  of  night  and 
moonlight,  and  on  our  return  to  the  boat  we  found  each 
one  of  them  loaded  with  fuel  for  their  cooking,  which  they 
had  stolen  in  and  near  the  village. 

Xext  morning  I awoke  with  the  boat  rolling  and  pitch- 
ing as  if  we  were  on  the  Atlantic  in  a small  gale  of  wind. 
I hurried  out  on  deck  and  found  that  we  were  in  a narrow 
part  of  the  river  where  the  current  was  rapid,  and  the 
wind  blowing  agamst  it  strong  from  the  north  made  a 
heavy  sea,  while,  of  course,  we  made  no  progress,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  rather  drove  up  stream.  The  reis  and  crew 
were  invisible.  Every  man  of  them  was  rolled  up,  head 
and  heels,  in  his  bournoose,  and  sound  asleep.  I turned 
in  again  and  slept  an  hour,  and  went  out  again.  AVe  had 
gone  a mile  up  stream,  and  they  were  all  asleep  as  before. 
I shouted  to  the  reis,  woke  him  up  and  asked  him  why 
he  didn’t  attend  to  his  boat,  and  how  long  he  intended  to 


NUBIAN  GIRL. 


315 


pitch  us  about  in  that  way ; and  on  the  crew  coming  to 
their  senses,  we  laid  her  in  shore  and  made  fast  to  the 
bank. 

I passed  the  day  among  the  hills  and  in  the  villages  on 
the  shore,  learning  what  I could  of  the  domestic  life  of 
the  poor  Nubians.  Their  houses  and  furniture  were  simple 
enough,  and  their  dress  even  more  so. 

The  purchase  of  milk  had  been  a source  of  amusement 
as  well  as  difficulty  all  along  the  liver,  and  while  waiting 
here  we  endeavored  to  secure  a supply.  Abd-el-Atti  sent 
for  his  pail,  and  we  sat  on  the  rocks  among  the  huts  on 
the  hillside,  and  told  the  women  to  bring  their  milk  and 
pour  into  it.  Singularly  enough  the  great  objection  which 
they  had  to  parting  with  it  originated  in  their  love  of 
butter.  Not  for  eatmg  purposes.  That  would  be  a waste 
of  precious  material.  It  was  for  their  heads  only,  to  soak 
their  black  locks  withal.  Hence  one  brought  but  a pint, 
and  another  half  as  much,  and  another  but  a little  more. 
Before  they  would  pour  the  milk  into  the  common  recep- 
tacle they  must  have  the  money ; and  as  for  copper,  they 
would  not  touch  it.  No,  it  must  be  silver.  But  we  had 
no  silver  coin  small  enough  to  j^ay  for  such  small  amounts 
of  milk,  and  after  a long  parley,  Abd-el-Atti  made  a dash 
at  the  calabashes  and  poured  them  all  into  the  pail  to- 
gether. 

Then  arose  a cry,  and  while  three  or  four  of  them 
shouted  their  indignation,  one,  a tall  and  beautiful  girl, 
one  of  the  most  elegantly-formed  women  that  I have  seen, 
and  displaying  her  beauty  in  unvailed  freedom,  seized  the 
handkerchief  which  Abd-el-Atti  had  laid  on  a rock,  and 
in  which  was  a dollar  or  so  of  money,  and  sprang  like  a 
deer  up  the  side  of  the  rocks  to  a high  point,  where  she 
turned  and  shook  it  at  us  with  a shout  of  delight.  Abd- 
el-Atti  raised  his  gun  and  pointed  it  at  her,  but  she  knew 
well  that  it  Was  only  a threat,  and  she  did  not  fear  it. 


316 


LEFT  BEHIND. 


The  entire  fearlessness  of  the  women  in  this  part  of  the 
world  is  remarkable,  and  appears  to  be  an  evidence  that 
they  are  well  treated.  In  all  the  blows  that  I have  seen 
struck  here  I never  saw  a man  strike  a woman ; and  often- 
times when  I have  observed  a man  putting  to  flight  a 
crowd  who  surrounded  a doorway  or  who  annoyed  trav- 
elers, the  women  remained  undisturbed,  never  appre- 
hending violence.  It  was  a long  time  before  we  could 
induce  the  girl  to  return  with  the  money,  but  when  she 
did,  she  approached  without  a moment’s  fear  of  personal 
violence. 

A woman  near  this  scene  was  grinding  the  castor-bean 
between  two  stones,  and  obtaining  the  oil  for  anointing 
purposes.  Others  were  pounding  corn  into  meal  and 
making  bread ; and  all  were  stout,  fat,  sleek  women,  look- 
ing as  if  fed  on  the  fat  of  the  fattest  of  lands,  instead  of 
the  dry  meal  of  Egypt.  One  man  in  America  could  not 
live  a day  on  what  will  keep  a Is’ubian  family  in  good  feed 
for  a week. 

While  I was  wandering  over  the  hills  in  search  of  foxes 
the  wind  went  down,  and  the  reis,  with  a stupidity  for 
which  he  had  become  somewhat  remarkable,  cast  ofi*  the 
fasts  and  went  on  down  the  river  without  looking  for  his 
passengers.  I saw  this  from  a hill-top  nearly  a mile  away 
from  the  river,  and  had  the  pleasant  consciousness  withal, 
that  every  one  on  the  boat  had  probably  gone  to  sleep, 
and  I might  follow  them  till  night  in  vain.  Abd-el-Atti 
was  somewhere  among  the  mountains  also,  and  I deter- 
mined instantly  to  look  him  up,  and  at  that  moment  saw 
him  a mile  below  the  boat,  hurrying  to  the  bank  of  the 
river.  He  stopped  them,  and  I came  up  an  hour  after- 
ward, foot  weary  and  glad  to  get  on  board  again. 

At  nearly  midnight  that  night  we  were  at  Dakkeh,  and 
determined  to  see  it,  as  we  had  seen  Saboa,  by  the  light 
of  the  moon,  which  in  fact  had  not  yet  risen.  The  vil- 


OLD  PEOPLE. 


S11 


lagers  'were  sound  asleep,  and  did  not  hear  us  as  we 
pulled  the  dry  corn-stalks  from  the  roofs  of  their  houses, 
wherewith  to  build  a fire  in  the  desolate  court  of  the 
temple. 

By  their  light  I copied  a quaint  picture  of  a man,  or  a 
devil,  or  a god,  playing  on  a harp.  It  is  on  one  of  the 
pillars  at  the  left  of  the  door  as  you  enter.  This  temple 
is  well  worth  a visit,  if  only  for  the  exquisite  state  of  per- 
fection in  which  many  of  the  sculptures  remain,  especially 
those  in  the  small  sepulchral  chamber  on  the  east  of  the 
adytum,  where,  but  for  the  smoke  and  blackness,  one 
might  almost  imagine  every  thing  fresh  from  the  builders’ 
hands. 

Returning  from  the  temple,  we  found  some  of  the  vil- 
lagers awake,  and  pushed  into  their  houses.  There  were 
the  usual  strange  groups  lying  on  the  ground  in  profound 
slumber,  forgetful  for  the  time  of  the  labors  and  the  ills  of 
fife.  An  old  man  and  an  old  woman,  very  old,  lay  by  the 
embers  of  afire,  and  when  I entered  rubbed  their  eyes  at  the 
strange  vision  that  interrupted  their  slumber,  and  looked 
piteously  at  me,  as  if  they  thought  I had  come  to  disturb 
them  in  their  few  remaining  days.  I dropped  money  into 
their  hands,  and  they  looked  like  new  beings.  Some  an- 
tiques were  here,  a few  broken  vases,  a coin  or  two,  and 
some  trifles  of  that  kind ; and  haviim  boimht  all  that  were 
of  any  value,  we  left  them  to  sleep  again,  and  hastened 
back  to  the  boat.  It  was  a grand  night  again.  The  moon 
lay  in  the  east  with  an  air  of  majesty  and  calmness  that  I 
never  saw  surpassed,  and  I had  blessed  sleep  that  night 
and  the  dreams  that  most  of  all  I longed  for.  Thank 
God  agam  for  dreams  ! 


$0. 


hi 

In  the  morning  after  we  left  Dakkeli  we  were 
approaching  Gerf  IIossay7i.  We  were 
welcomed  at  the  shore  by  a crowd  of 
hostile  looking  Nubians,  and  a demand  of 
money  for  the  privilege  of  landing.  This  is 
one  of  the  spots  in  Nubia  celebrated  for 
outrages  and  rebellions.  It  is  the  Lyons 
of  Egypt,  where  the  government  has  more  or 
less  to  do  every  year,  in  putting  down  insurrec- 
tions and  punishing  not  a few  bold  and 
daring  offenders  against  its  authority. 

The  temple  at  Gerf  Hossayn  is  like  that  at  Abou  Sim- 
bal,  cut  out  of  the  rock  of  the  hill.  The  remains  of  a 
colonnade  in  front  of  it  lead  to  the  doorway,  which  ad- 
mits the  visitor  to  a large  chamber,  the  roof  of  which  is 
supported  by  six  colossal  statues,  all  of  which  have  been 
brilliantly  painted,  of  which  paint  much  brilliancy  yet  re- 
mains. In  the  walls  of  the  chamber  behind  the  openings 
between  the  statues,  are  eight  niches,  four  on  each  side, 
in  each  of  which  are  three  seated  figures.  The  second 
chamber  has  the  wall  supported  by  four  large  square  pil- 
lars, and  beyond  this  is  the  adytum  with  its  altar  and 
four  seated  statues  behind  it,  the  gods  that  have  waited 
for  thousands  of  years  the  return  of  the  devout  of  old 


A ROW. 


319 


times — who,  alas,  are  wandering  in  shades  of  darkness, 
seeking  vainly  the  abodes  of  their  deities.  There  is  a 
sublimity  in  the  aj^pearance  of  these  stone  gods  sitting 
behind  their  cold  altars,  in  the  profound  stillness  of  the 
mountain’s  very  heart,  which  awes  the  careless  stranger. 
I stand  before  them  as  before  the  very  embodied 
thoughts  of  olden  times.  I look  at  them  as  I would 
look  at  the  visible  presence  in  the  flesh  of  one  of  Ho- 
mer’s heroes.  Xay,  more  than  that — men’s  throbbing 
hearts  have  been  hushed  in  awe  before  this  stone. 
Woman’s  breast  has  been  bared  to  seek  a blessing 
from  their  cold,  calm  eyes.  Red  lips  have  trembled  in 
convulsive  prayer,  have  quivered  in  the  agonies  of  hope 
deferred  and  failing  faith,  before  the  silent  gods.  The 
eyes  of  millions,  generations  after  generations  of  the 
changing  races  of  men,  have  been  fixed  'with  adoring 
gaze  on  their  voiceless  lips,  and  the  faith  of  those  gen- 
erations had  given  sanctity  to  what  might  otherwise 
pass  for  stone  and  nothing  more.  If  the  voice  of  the 
God  should  but  speak  into  life  those  silent  companions, 
and  bid  them  utter  their  histories,  what  bones  would 
shake  in  the  vaults  of  old  Egypt  as  the  fearful  stories  of 
century  after  century  came  from  those  eloquent  lips ! 

We  did  not  leave  Gerf  Hossayn  in  peace.  One  native, 
blacker  than  any  dream  of  darkness,  grew  specially  in- 
solent to  me,  and  I 'w^as  compelled  to  order  the  crowd 
outside  of  the  front  colonnade,  and  forbid  their  entrance, 
placing  Mohammed  Hassan  on  guard  with  a pistol  to  en- 
force obedience.  This  one  rascal,  however,  threw  stones 
at  my  sentinel,  which  w^as  more  than  he  could  put  up 
with.  It  w^as  a miracle  that  he  did  not  use  the  pistol. 
Instead  of  that  he  threw  the  pistol  to  Hassan  Hegazi, 
another  of  the  sailors  who  was  wdth  us,  and  sprang  at  his 
foe.  The  yell  of  the  spectators  brought  me  out  of  the 
temple  in  an  instant,  and  I found  the  Nubian  on  his  back 


820 


KALABSHEE. 


under  bis  powerful  assailant.  I cleared  a ring,  and 
commanded  Mohammed  to  drag  him  into  the  colonnade, 
which  done,  I allowed  him  to  administer  such  justice  as 
left  our  Gerf  Hossayn  friends  convinced  of  the  impro- 
priety of  interfering  Avith  the  pleasures  of  a IIoAvajji. 

. When  Ave  returned  to  our  boat  we  found  alongside  of 
her  a small  boat  AAdiich  j^roved  to  belong  to  Abdul  Rah- 
man, and  was  then  upAvard  bound  to  Derr.  I wrote  him 
a note,  suggesting  one  of  the  annual  visitations  to  Gerf 
Hossayn  Avhich  the  government  Avere  accustomed  to 
make,  and,  before  I left  Egypt  had  the  pleasure  of  hear- 
ing that  he  had  acted  on  my  recommendation,  caught 
the  especial  offender,  whom  he  Avould  have  no  difficulty 
in  recognizing  by  his  sore  head,  and  administered  a 
proper  amount  of  justice  in  the  regular  Avay. 

We  passed  Dendoor  in  the  afternoon,  going  ashore 
only  for  an  hour  to  examine  the  heap  of  ruins  that 
mark  the  site  of  a temple,  once  beautiful  and  elevated 
on  a fine  terrace  above  the  river,  and  that  night  we  laid 
the  boat  up  at  Kalabshee. 

The  next  morning  AA^as  the  last  day  of  December  and 
of  the  year. 

The  large  temple  of  Kalabshee  is  interesting,  as  having 
been  once  A^ery  gorgeous,  and  still  retaining  remains  of 
its  golden  chambers ; but  the  small  rock-heAvn  temple  on 
the  hill-side  is  more  interesting,  as  built  or  heAvn  by  Rem- 
eses  (Sesostris),  and  as  haAung  in  its  front  tAvo  columns  or 
pillars,  AAffiich  are  among  the  oldest  in  the  Avorld,  since 
they  must  date  betAveen  1300  and  1400  b.c.,  and  Avhose 
simple  polygonal  shafts  are  A^ery  like  the  Grecian  Doric 
in  appearance.  The  representations  of  the  deeds  of  Reme- 
ses,  which  Avere  on  the  sides  of  the  court  in  front  of  this 
temple,  are  defaced,  but  enough  still  remains  to  enable  us 
to  trace  much  of  interesting  history  from  theii’  ancient 
lines. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  CATARACT. 


321 


At  noon  we  were  again  on  the  river,  and  as  the  old 
year  died  along  the  Nile  and  the  new  one  came  with  cu- 
rious eyes  to  gaze  on  the  wonders  of  Egypt  of  the  ancient 
days,  we  were  falling  quietly  into  the  little  hay  under  the 
shadow  of  the  temple  that  overhangs  the  eastern  bank 
of  Philae  the  beautiful. 

All  day  long  that  New-year  day  we  wandered  among 
the  stately  ruins  of  Phila3.  We  had  a sort  of  claim  to 
possession  of  the  island,  for  we  had  been  its  discoverers 
this  winter,  being  the  first  travelers  up  from  the  lower 
country ; but  we  found  an  English  gentleman  in  actual 
possession,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  an  American 
party  came  up  on  donkeys  from  Es  Souan  to  see  the 
most  beautiful  of  islands.  Three  ladies,  dressed  in  black, 
and  wearing  the  broad  black  English  flats  on  their  heads, 
looked  down  on  us  from  the  summit  of  the  lofty  tower 
of  the  propylon  of  the  temple  of  Isis,  and  we,  sitting 
among  the  ruins  at  the  north  end  of  the  island,  consid- 
ered them  as  in  some  respects  interlopers  on  our  domains. 
Nevertheless  it  was  pleasant  to  see  females  from  civilized 
lands  once  more,  and  to  know  that  we  were  returning 
into  the  company  of  fellow  Christians. 

We  sent  the  Phantom  down  the  river  early  in  the 
morning.  Of  her  fearful  passage  of  the  cataract  we  had 
great  accounts  in  the  evening  at  Es  Souan,  when  we  re- 
joined her.  How  she  went  bravely  down  the  first  great 
rapid,  danced  like  a bird  through  the  foam  and  wild  dash 
of  the  long  reach  of  the  cataract ; how  thereupon  Bag 
Bong  sprang  at  Reis  Hassanein  and  seized  his  turban, 
which  is  by  custom  the  fee  of  the  reis  of  the  cataract  on 
a successful  descent ; how  old  Reis  Hassan  seized  the 
other  end,  and  a fight  ensued  between  the  four  cataract 
reises,  during  which  the  boat  struck  a rock  and  went  over 
on  her  side,  and  a loud  yell  rose  from  fifty  throats ; how 
Abd-el-Atti  threw  Bag  Boug  into  the  river  and  knocked 

14^ 


322 


NEW  year’s  calls. 


Selim  overboard  after  him,  and  made  terrible  work  gen- 
erally among  them,  till  the  Phantom  swung  off  into  deep 
water ; all  these  things  we  heard  in  the  evening  from 
Reis  Hassanein,  who  sat  contented  on  the  top  of  the 
kitchen  watching  the  preparation  of  our  Xew-year’s  din- 
ner, and  from  Hassan,  the  bright-eyed  cabin  boy,  whose 
heart  had  been  in  his  mouth  a dozen  times  between  Phi- 
lae  and  the  foot  of  the  cataract. 

As  the  sun  was  going  westward,  we  hailed  an  old  boat 
that  lay  under  the  bank  of  the  main  land,  and  a naked 
boy  and  a miserable  old  man  with  a ragged  cloth  around 
his  loins  paddled  it  across.  It  had  an  awning  of  coarse 
straw  matting  across  the  stern,  and  under  this  we  lay 
down  while  they  ferried  us  over  to  the  main  land,  where 
we  met  donkeys  which  Abd-el-Atti  sent  up  from  Es 
Souan  on  his  arrival  there. 

I have  before  S]3oken  of  the  road  to  Es  Souan.  I had 
walked  part  of  it  with  our  missionary  friends  on  a moon- 
light night  some  time  before,  and  now  by  daylight  the 
road  was  scarcely  less  picturesque  and  wild. 

Our  donkeys  were  none  of  the  best.  I had  not  used 
mine  five  minutes  before  it  became  evident  that  he  had  a 
weakness  in  his  hinder  parts,  incapacitating  him  for  car- 
rying a hundred  and  seventy  odd  jDOunds  of  .^merican 
flesh  and  blood,  and  I took  to  my  own  means  of  locomo- 
tion. 

It  was  evening  when  we  reached  Es  Souan,  and  here  a 
gay  scene  awaited  us. 

There  were  seven  boats  here,  besides  our  own,  carrying 
American,  English,  French,  and  Prussian  flags,  and  after 
dinner,  when  it  was  about  noon  at  home,  we  followed  the 
illustrious  custom  of  the  Knickerbocker  city,  and  made 
calls,  while  the  ladies  on  the  Phantom  received.  When 
we  returned,  we  found  some  twelve  persons  in  the  little 
cabin,  and  a merry  evening  that  was  for  us,  returning,  as 


JESSAMINE. 


323 


it  '^vere  from  exile,  suddenly  into  all  the  refinements  of 
civilization. 

When  our  friends  had  left  the  boat,  we  amused  our- 
selves and  the  natives  with  a few  fire-works,  and  the  vari- 
ous boats  saluting,  we  made  the  rocks  of  Elephantine 
echo  all  night  to  the  sound  of  fire-arms. 

Xext  day,  at  eight,  we  left,  with  a chorus  of  the  row- 
ers, as  they  lay  down  to  their  oars. 

It  was  a dark  and  threatening  day,  but  we  Avent  swiftly 
down  stream,  pausing  nowhere,  and  at  nine  in  the  even- 
ing passed  under  the  hill  on  which  stands  Kouin  Omhos. 

I Avas  shooting  along  shore,  next  morning,  for  a head 
wind  kept  the  Phantom  back,  when  Mohammed  Hassan, 
my  constant  attendant,  shouted,  “Yasmin!  Yasmin !” 
and  dashed  at  a bunch  of  green  leaA^es,  with  a zeal  that 
aroused,  if  it  did  not  surprise  me.  Jessamme  is  a wood 
most  highly  prized  by  the  Orientals  for  pipe-stems,  and 
here  Avas  a quantity  of  it. 

Reis  Hassanein,  seated  on  the  cabin  deck  of  the  Phan- 
tom^ a mile  aAA^ay,  saAv  us  and  shouted  aloud  to  know 
AA^hat  Ave  were  doing.  The  distance  at  which  these 
Arabs  talk  is  incredible.  Mohammed  replied,  and  I saAv 
the  reis  tumble  doAvn  into  the  small  boat  in  a great  hurry. 
He  hastened  ashore  to  share  the  plunder.  We  secured 
as  much  as  would  have  cost  eight  or  ten  dollars  to  pur- 
chase in  Cairo,  and  this  I sent  on  board,  with  bunches  of 
the  fragrant  blossoms,  for  Amy  and  Miriam.  I Avent  on 
shooting  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  getting  sundry  rab- 
bits, pigeons,  and  partridges. 

I arrived,  at  length,  at  the  vast  sand-stone  quarries  of 
Ilagar  Silsilis.  Their  extent  is  A^ery  great,  and  their 
chief  feature  of  interest  consists  in  deep,  narroAV,  rock 
cuts,  roads  hewn  from  the  river  back  into  the  hills,  not 
more  than  twenty  feet  Avide,  and  having  sides  often  from 
fifty  to  a hundred  feet  high,  perpendicular.  I Avas  lost  in 


324 


HAGAR  SILSILIS. 


one  of  these,  and  found  my  way  to  the  river  just  in  time 
to  hail  the  boat  as  it  drifted  by.  They  put  me  across 
to  the  other  side,  where  we  all  landed  to  see  the  various 
rock-hewn  tablets,  and  small  temples,  or  praying  places, 
which  here  abound.  Many  of  these  are  of  the  deepest 
interest  to  the  Egyptian  scholar,  and  the  attention  of 
Egyptiologists  is  just  now  directed  very  carefully  to  the 
inscriptions  at  Hagar  Silsilis. 

Many  of  these  open  chapels  are  exceedingly  beautiful, 
and  on  some  the  brilliant  painting  remains  with  very 
much  freshness.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  is  the  most 
northern  corridor,  where  we  find  repeated  often  the  car- 
touche of  Horus,  the  successor  of  the  great  Amunoph 
who  is  the  original  of  the  vocal  Memnon.  These  chapels 
were  probably  used  by  the  laborers.  The  quarries,  which 
are  of  very  ancient  date,  furnished  the  stone  for  most, 
if  not  all  of  the  great  temples  along  the  river  below  this 
point.  Thebes  and  Karnak  were  doubtless  hewn  out  of 
these  hills.  I looked  in  vain  for  a cartouche  of  Remedy 
which  Wilkinson  saw  on  the  rock  somewhere  near  here, 
a king  who  was  of  a very  early  period,  if  he  be,  as  that 
learned  gentleman  has  thought  possible,  identical  with 
Moeris. 

The  place  derives  its  name  from  a large  rock  standing, 
column  like,  near  the  river,  which  is  here  very  narrow. 
Tlie  word  hcigm\  or  hajjai\  as  it  would  be  pronounced  in 
Syrian  Arabic,  signifies  a rock,  and  Silsilis  a chain,  there 
being  a tradition  that  in  some  ancient  time  a chain  was 
stretched  across  the  river  here  as  a barrier  against  south- 
ern invasion. 

I walked  on  down  the  river  until  dark.  An  Arab  had 
shot  two  crocodiles,  and  wanted  to  sell  me  their  skins, 
but  it  was  not  in  my  line.  Toward  evening  I hailed  the 
boat,  and  the  small  boat  came  and  put  me  across  the  river, 
v/here  Abd-el-Atti  was  shooting  along  shore  as  I had 


GYMNASTICS. 


325 


been.  While  waiting  for  him,  I observed  that  the  shore 
was  covered  with  cornelians  and  agates  in  large  quanti- 
ties. I filled  my  pockets,  and  threw  nearly  a half 
bushel  into  the  boat,  from  which  to  let  the  ladies  make 
selections,  and  then  returned  on  board. 

A loud  cry,  and  a sudden  thump  on  a sand-bank,  inter- 
rupted our  quiet,  in  the  evening,  and  the  next  moment 
the  reis  nearly  broke  his  neck  as  he  fell  off  the  front  of 
the  cabin  to  the  main-deck.  He  had  been  dozing  there, 
as  usual,  droning  out  a chorus  for  the  men  to  row  by,  and 
when  she  struck,  he  toppled  over  forward,  and  came 
down  in  _a  heap  in  front  of  the  door.  Then  ensued  the 
usual  demand  for  medicine  and  surgery,  and  so  the  night 
passed  on. 


3j. 

Early  next  morning  we  were  near  Edfou ; and  as  I 
bad  visited  the  temple  alone  on  the  upward  j^assage  we, 
of  course,  had  a stop  to  make  here. 

The  reis,  being  in  a desperate  hurry  to  get  to  land  be- 
fore another  boat  which  was  close  behind  us,  plunged  the 
Phantom  on  a sand-bar,  where  the  pelicans  and  cranes 
laughed  at  us  for  three  hours  of  a bright  morning,  and 
the  Breeze^  the  other  boat,  following  us  blindly,  fell  on 
the  same  shoal,  and  stuck  fast  on  the  same  bar.  The 
men  heaved,  and  pulled,  and  braced  their  backs  under 
the  boat,  and  strained  their  brawny  limbs,  and  looked  wist- 
fully at  their  breakfast  on  deck,  which  the  reis  wouldn’t 
let  them  have  until  they  got  the  boat  off;  and  so  the  sun 
went  up  high,  and  the  chances  were  that  we  should  Tie 
there  till'the  next  flood  of  the  Xile. 

Trumbull,  who  had  been  sitting  on  deck,  quietly  smok- 
ing his  chibouk,  and  had  now  finished  it,  called  out  to 
Hajji  Hassan  to  make  a rope  fast  to  her  stern,  and  take 
it  olf  across  the  stream,  where  three  of  the  men  took 
hold,  standing  nearly  iq)  to  their  necks  in  water.  A few 
easy  pulls  in  that  direction  started  the  sand  under  the  keel, 
and  she  swung  gently  ofl*,  while  the  poor  wretches  who 
had  been  working  under  the  sides,  swung  themselves  in 
with  an  exclamation,  “Mashallah!”  and  took  to  their 
breakfast  as  if  starving.  Fifteen  minutes  more  brought 


A DARK  HOLE. 


327 


US  to  the  land,  at  the  same  spot  in  which  we  lay  on  our 
way  up  the  river ; whence  we  started  on  foot,  while  the 
ladies  rode  donkeys,  up  to  the  village  and  the  temples. 

The  travelers  from  the  other  boat  were  a party  of  four 
from  Albany,  three  ladies  and  a gentleman,  and  they  soon 
arrived,  so  that  there  were  five  American  ladies  and  three 
gentlemen  in  the  temple  at  Edfou  together.  I have 
spoken  of  this  old  and  magnificent  building  on  my  way 
up  the  river,  and  I shall  not  pause  here  to  describe  it. 
It  is  one  of  those  wonders  of  Egypt  best  described 
by  saying  that  a large  part  of  the  modern  village,  a 
part  containing  several  hundred  inhabitants,  is  situated 
on  the  roof  of  the  rear  portion,  the  adytum^  of  the  tem- 
ple. The  filth  of  centuries  is  accumulated  within ; and  I 
record  here  the  fact,  that  I did  not  enter  the  adytum,  as 
this  was  the  only  hole,  large  or  small,  in  Egypt,  which 
there  was  any  object  in  entering,  that  I shrunk  from.  It 
occurred  on  this  wise.  I was  loitering  around  the  en- 
trance, looking  at  the  vast  towers  of  the  gateway,  while 
the  ladies  sat  in  a picturesque  group  in  the  grand  court, 
under  the  shade  of.the  western  corridor. 

“ Antika,  antika  kebeer,  antika  tieb  keteer  minhenna !” 
said  an  Arab  boy  to  me. 

I had  heard  it  from  so  many  that  I thought  there  must 
be  something  worth  the  seeing,  and  shouting  to  Miriam 
that  I would  return  soon,  I pushed  on  after  the  boy,  who 
led  me,  with  a motley  train  behind  me,  up  to  the  village, 
which  was  on  the  roof  of  the  adytum,  and  through  two 
or  three  of  its  dirty  alleys.  The  crowd  of  women  and 
children  began  to  increase  around  me,  and  at  length  my 
leader  pushed  open  the  board  entrance  of  a mud  hut, 
and  told  me  to  follow  him.  I followed  him,  and  they 
followed  me.  They  were  of  all  grades  and  colors,  and 
stages  of  nakedness  and  filth  ; some  fifty  Arab  or  Egyp- 
tian women  and  children,  not  a man  among  them ; and  I 


328 


AN  INTERIOR. 


looked  around  me  in  the  dim  hut,  thinking  myself  the 
centre  of  altogether  the  ’worst-lookmg  group  of  humanity 
that  ever  radiated  around  my  person.  Up  to  this 
time  I entertained  the  idea  that  I was  to  find  an  antique 
for  sale,  and  I had  some  doubts  whether  it  would  turn 
out  to  be  a mummy  or  a vase ; for  every  valuable  curi- 
osity is  most  diligently  concealed  from  the  government 
officers.  But  the  boy  demanded  now  whether  I had  a 
candle,  and  on  my  replying  yes,  and  producing  my  never- 
failing  companion  and  some  matches,  he  seized  the  candle, 
lit  it,  while  I looked  on  patiently,  and  then  dropping  flat 
on  his  face  on  the  floor,  vanished  out  of  sight. 

It  was  magical.  I was  for  an  instant  in  astonished 
silence,  till  the  group  began  shouting,  “ Antika  tieb,  tieb 
keteer !”  and  pointing  downward,  directed  my  attention 
to  what  I had  not  before  observed,  that  the  side  wall  of 
the  hut  was  the  upper  part  of  the  wall  of  the  temple,  and 
that  the  boy  had  crawled  through  a hole  about  a foot 
high,  by  two  or  two  and  a half  wide,  and  was  actually 
gone,  by  this  “ hole  in  the  wall,”  into  the  holy  of  holies, 
which  priests  and  princes  of  ancient  days  were  accus- 
tomed to  enter  in  lordly  processions  of  solemn  grandeur. 

I stooped  and  looked  in.  The  boy  was  calling  me.  I 
lay  down  and  worked  my  way  in,  snake  fashion,  far 
enough  to  see  that  I was  in  a sculptured  room,  half  filled 
with  dust,  and  straw,  and  filth,  and  then  seven  fleas  at- 
tacked my  feet,  seventeen  my  waist,  and  sevenscore  my 
neck,  and  I returned  to  outer  light,  and  the  stifling  pres- 
ence of  the  women  and  children,  who  vociferously  de- 
manded if  it  was  not  a magnificent  antique,  and  if  my 
bucksheesh  would  not  be  proportionably  grand.  I scat- 
tered some  coppers  on  the  floor,  whereupon  there  ensued 
the  usual  rough-and-tumble  scene,  a confused  heap  of 
heads,  arms,  legs,  and  bodies  in  the  middle  of  the  room ; 
and  I came  out  into  the  air.  As  I passed  the  front  of  the 


ARRAKEE. 


320 


temple  on  my  way  back  to  the  ladies,  a hard-looking  old 
case  of  an  Arab  whispered  in  my  ear  that  if  I wanted  to  see 
some  good  arrakee  he  was  just  the  man  who  could  gratify 
me.  I thought  he  was,  from  his  personal  appearance. 
He  was,  in  fact,  the  one-eyed  scribe  whoso  close  attach- 
ment to  the  old  governor  I described  in  a former  chap- 
ter ; and  I now  had  an  additional  explanation  of  the  red 
face  and  blear  eyes  of  that  functionary,  of  whose  diligent 
pursuit  of  my  brandy  I before  wrote. 

Willing  to  see  all  that  was  to  be  seen,  I assented,  and 
the  old  fellow  led  me  to  the  spot.  For  the  benefit  of 
future  travelers  who  may  wish  to  drink  at  Edfou,  I will 
inform  them  that  it  is  in  the  street  running  from  the  front 
of  the  temple,  third  door  on  the  left ; knock  once  and  say 
something  low  about  bucksheesh,  and  an  old  woman — if 
she  is  not  dead,  as  she  seemed  likely  to  be  soon — a fac- 
simile of  the  old  man,  will  open  the  door,  lead  you 
through  a court  into  a smaller  court,  and  exhibit  alto- 
gether the  most  primitive  still  that  your  eyes  will  ever 
rest  on,  wherein,  by  aid  of  dates  and  fire,  there  is  manu- 
factured wherewith  to  poison  the  poor  devils  who  lie  lazily 
around  the  temple  to  pick  up  travelers’  coppers,  and  insure 
them  a poor  reception  from  the  Prophet  after  they  are 
dead.  On  the  whole,  however,  it  was  good  arrakee  that 
the  old  man  made,  although  the  stuff  is  detestable.  The 
taste  is  anise  seed,  the  effect  that  of  the  lowest  grade  of 
whisky.  I tasted  and  departed.  As  I came  out  of  the 
hut  mto  the  street,  where  were  now  at  least  a hundred 
natives  crowded  around  our  party,  who  were  purchasing 

antiques,  I saw  the  old  man  slide  up  to  Mr.  R , the 

Albany  gentleman  aforesaid,  and  whisper  as  he  had  to 

me,  and  a few  minutes  later  Mr.  R came  out  of  the 

hut  with  a comical  expression  of  countenance,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  say  whether  it  was  owing  to  the  oddity  of  the 
circumstance  or  the  vileness  of  the  tipple. 


330 


WILD  FOWL. 


There  was  a little  girl  in  the  crowd,  innocent  of  dra- 
pery, who  came  np  to  me  repeatedly  with  four  coins  at  a 
time  in  her  hand,  which  I repeatedly  purchased  before  I 
observed  that  it  ’\Vas  the  same  child  each  time.  I then 
saw  that  there  must  be  a treasury  of  them  somewhere. 
Obviously  she  could  not  carry  them  about  her  person, 
that  was  too  manifest,  and  I made  her  take  me  to  her 
home,  a mud  hut  a little  way  oif.  It  was  inhabited  by  an 
old  woman,  who  denied  entirely  that  she  had  any  more ; 
but  persuasion,  and  promises  produced  the  result  at 
length,  and  she  brought  me  out  some  hundreds  of  coins, 
chiefly  of  the  eastern  empire,  but  many  more  valuable. 
I selected  and  purchased  all  that  I wished ; but  the  stock 
will  last  her  for  years,  and  any  one  wishing  for  coins  may 
find  her  there.  Street  and  number  I can’t  give. 

It  was  a delicious  afternoon.  The  memory  of  it  haunts 
me.  I can  not  say  why,  except  that  earth,  air,  and  sky 
were  m more  perfect  unison  of  beauty  that  day  than  ever 
before.  We  dined  early,  and  after  dmner  I took  my  gun 
and  strolled  down  the  river,  leaving  the  boat  to  follow 
when  it  would.  The  evening  came  on,  and  I found  myself 
on  the  beach,  where  a long  point  of  mud  or  sand,  running 
two  miles  down  the  river,  completely  shut  me  ofi*  from 
communication  with  the  boat  if  she  should  come  along, 
but  as  yet  I saw  nothing  of  her.  Retracing  my  steps 
with  Mohammed  Hassan,  my  constant  companion  in  such 
walks,  close  behind  me,  I took  to  the  point  and  followed 
it  down,  shooting  an  occasional  wild  fowl,  for  Edfou 
abounds  in  every  species  of  duck,  and  the  river  is  filled 
with  geese  and  various  other  water  fowl,  which  find  ex- 
cellent feeding-ground  in  the  lake  and  flats  back  of  the 
village. 

A boat  coming  slowly  up  the  river  with  full  sail  set, 
passed  close  to  me,  and  I exchanged  salutes  with  her 
owners.  She  carried  English  colors.  The  last  rays  of 


INSECURE  FOOTING. 


331 


the  sun  lit  them  joyously  as  she  swept  on  up  the  stream, 
and  I was  left  alone  with  my  Arab  attendant  on  the  sandy 
point,  and  the  swift  night  was  coming  down  on  us,  as  it 
always  comes  in  that  land  of  clear  air  and  deep  skies. 
At  length  it  became  manifest  that  it  was  unsafe  to  walk 
further.  The  bar  on  which  I was  walking  was  of  mud 
and  sand  mingled,  and  had  now  narrowed  to  less  than 
two  hundred  feet,  while  it  oozed  and  sank  under  my  feet 
at  each  step  that  I made  in  advance.  It  was  that  pecu- 
liar mud,  too,  which  reminds  one  of  what,  when  boys,  we 
called  leather-ice^  which  was  apparently  tough  and  strong, 
and  yet  would  yield  under  a steady  pressure,  so  that  we 
could  run  across  it,  but  could  not  rest  on  it.  I could 
strike  the  breach  of  my  gun  down  heavily  and  firmly  on 
it,  and  it  would  not  give,  but  by  tapping  it  gently  I would 
change  the  consistency  of  it  to  mere  loose  mud,  and  then 
a small  circle  would  sink  and  leave  clear  water  in  its  place. 
Taking  our  position  on  the  highest  point  of  the  ridge,  a 
foot  or  two  above  the  river  level,  and  changing  our  feet 
constantly  from  place  to  place,  we  waited  impatiently  the 

coming  of  the  boat.  The  Breeze^  Mr.  R ’s  boat,  shot 

by  us,  and  sent  me  a halloo  and  a salute,  to  which  I re- 
plied by  waving  my  hat,  and  a few  minutes  later  the 
Phantom  was  visible  leaving  the  land.  It  was  now  a 
question  whether  they  would  see  us  or  not,  as  it  was 
growing  so  dark ; but  the  voice  is  heard  an  incredible 
distance  over  these  still  waters.  Our  call  was  heard 
and  answered  more  than  a mile  away,  and  the  small  boat 
came  down  rat3idly  for  me.  But  it  could  not  approach 
within  thii’ty  feet  of  the  land,  and  I waded  off  to  it,  declin- 
ing the  proffered  shoulders  of  the  man,  lest  by  contact  I 
should  take  off  what  is  as  bad  as  disease,  and  much  worse 
than  dirt. 

As  I came  on  board  the  men  lay  down  to  their  oars 
with  a will,  and  it  appeared  that  they  had  agreed  on  a 


332 


ROMAN  RUINS. 


race  'with  the  crew  of  the  Breeze^  which  was  now  far 
ahead  of  ns.  In  the  evening,  as  we  were  seated  quietly 
at  our  round  table,  we  felt  a sudden  increase  in  the  velocity 
of  the  boat,  and,  looking  out,  saw  that  we  were  alongside 
of  the  other  boat,  whose  crew  had  waited  for  us.  Then 
the  swarthy  Arabs  sprang  to  their  oars,  and  the  reis, 
seated  at  the  top  of  the  ladder  to  the  upper  deck,  led 
them  in  a song,  to  which  they  gave  a stout  and  hearty 
chorus,  while  the  other  boat  sang  another  refrain ; and 
the  two  flew  through  the  water  at  a speed  far  surpassing 
any  thing  I had  supposed  possible  with  such  heavy  ob- 
jects. Now  one  boat  was  ahead,  and  now  the  other. 
Now  the  Breeze  led  us  half  a length,  and  now  we  came 
up  with  her  and  edged  slowly  by  her.  It  Avas  impossible 
to  Avrite  at  the  table,  so  fast  did  we  go,  and  so  much  did 
the  boat  spring  to  the  strokes  of  the  oars,  and  the  race 
Avas  not  over  till  Ave  both  came  to  the  land  under  the 
shade  of  the  sent  trees  that  line  the  bank  at  El  Kdb^  the 
ancient  Eileithyas,  of  Avhich  the  reader  Avill  remember  I 
spoke  in  a former  article. 

Here  we  had  proposed  to  pass  a day,  and  here  we  found 
one  of  the  most  interesting  points  in  Egypt.  The  ruins  of 
the  ancient  city  are  more  extensive  than  of  any  other  in 
Egypt,  but  these  consist  almost  solely  of  crude  brick  re- 
mains, Avails,  and  heaps  Avhich  cover  a great  sjDace,  in- 
cluded within  the  circuit  of  a gigantic  wall,  Avhose  height 
and  thickness  must  have  been  cyclopean.  It  is  not  in 
these,  hoAvever,  that  the  interest  of  a stay  at  Eileithyas 
consists,  but  in  the  tombs  of  the  Egyptians  with  Avhich 
the  hill  back  of  the  plain  is  perforated,  some  of  which  are 
among  the  most  curious  and  instructive  in  Egypt. 

One  or  tAvo  of  these  are  among  the  most  ancient  knoAvn 
in  the  Nile  valley,  containing  A^ery  curious  chronological 
tables  of  kings’  names  Avhich  are,  as  yet,  a puzzle  to  the 
scholar.  The  ruins  are  chiefly  of  Homan  times. 


ANCIENT  HOMES. 


333 


I was* awake,  as  usual,  at  day  break.  Trumbull  was 
never  behind  me.  We  v/ere  always  out  with  the  first 
rays  of  light,  and  I commenced  my  day  invariably  with  a 
plunge  in  the  ancient  river.  The  Breeze  lay  close  by  us, 
and  all  was  profoundly  still  on  board  of  her,  as  we  went 
out  with  our  guns  for  an  hour’s  shooting  among  the  ruins 
of  the  old  city. 

It  was  a scene  of  indescribable  desolation.  The  only 
spot  in  all  Egypt  where  there  are  remains  of  the  houses  of 
the  ancient  inhabitants.  These,  being  built  of  crude  brick, 
have  elsewhere  disappeared,  but  Eileithyas  was  inclosed 
in  an  immense  wall  of  the  same  material,  not  less  than 
twenty  feet  thick  and  forty  or  fifty  high.  The  remains 
of  this  wall  have  acted  as  a preserver  of  the  dusty  walls 
of  houses  within  its  circuit,  at  least  from  winds,  and 
they  are,  therefore,  left,  in  ruins,  but  enough  of  them 
standing  to  show  that  here  the  people  of  ancient  days  had 
habitations.  Here  families  lived,  children  j^layed,  mothers 
bore  ofispring ; all  the  home  passions,  emotions,  incidents, 
afiTections,  and  sorrows  of  life  had  succession  here ; and 
any  one  of  these  little  inclosures  has  held  a world  of 
thought  and  hope  two  thousand  years  ago,  all  gone  now 
— all  utterly  vanished — all  as  pure  dreams  now  as  is  yon- 
der blue  sky,  beautiful,  glorious,  distant,  intangible,  un- 
approachable. 

In  a hollow,  where  was  once  a sacred  lake  connected 
with  one  of  the  temples,  we  started  a fox,  and  in  the  low 
water  that  filled  the  bottom  of  the  hollow,  we  put  up  a 
dozen  snipe  and  shot  three  or  four  of  them. 

As  the  sun  came  up  pigeons  began  to  fly,  and  we 
stationed  ourselves  on  the  highest  point  of  the  old  wall 
and  shot  two  or  three  dozen  as ‘they  w^ent  over. 

Meantime,  on  board  the  boat,  Hajji  Mohammed  was 
busy  at  his  breakfast  arrangements,  which  were  kept  m 
abeyance  till  the  ladies  came  out  of  their  cabin,  and  then 


334 


TOMBS  AT  EL-K  AB. 


F errajj  was  despatched  to  find  and  call  us.  Such  was  the 
morning  routine  always  when  the  boat  was  not  sailing. 

Xever  were  two  ladies  in  brighter  condition  tlian  Amy 
and  Miriam,  and  never  were  donkeys  more  miserable 
brought  for  ladies  to  ride  on  than  now  awaited  them  on 
the  bank  above  the  boat.  But  these  were  the  best  that 
the  country  afibrded,  and  they  mounted,  while  Trumbull 
and  myself  declined  the  profler  of  similar  conveyances, 
and  started  on  foot  across  the  plain,  which  stretched  away 
to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  shootmg  as  we  went  at  what< 
ever  wild  animals  we  found  haunting  the  ruins  of  the 
ancient  palaces  of  the  Romans.  Half  an  hour  brought  us 
to  the  foot  of  the  hills,  and  lending  our  own  assistance  to 
the  donkeys,  we  succeeded  in  carrying  the  ladies  up  the 
steep  ascent  to  the  platform  in  front  of  the  first  and  chief 
row  of  sepulchres,  when  they  dismounted,  and  we  jdi’o- 
ceeded  together  to  examine  the  empty  chambers  that 
were  once  fitted  up  for  the  long  abode  of  mortality  await- 
ing immortality. 

I shall  not  pause  to  describe  these  tombs.  We  sat  in 
one  of  them  and  welcomed  the  arrival  of  the  party  from 
the  Breeze^  who  now  came  up,  and  we  looked  out  on  the 
flow  of  the  river,  and  up  toward  Edfou,  and  down  to- 
ward Thebes,  and  again  we  talked  of  the  grandeur  of  the 
sepulchral  spots  which  the  men  of  old  time  selected,  as  if 
they  designed  to  look  out  on  the  flow  of  their  lordly  river 
in  the  solemn  nights,  when  ghosts  of  all  ages  have  been 
permitted  to  walk  abroad. 

I believe  that  I mentioned,  in  my  description  of  my 
voyage  up  the  river,  that  I passed  a morning  at  this  place 
searching  for  antiques.  W e desired  to  do  so  again,  and 
having  given  directions  to  our  boat  to  drop  dovm  the 
river,  we  went  on  to  the  village,  which  lay  a few  miles 
down  the  plain,  crossing  the  same  broad  plateau  on  which, 
a few  weeks  before,  I had  my  fast  run  on  an  Arab 


FOUR  AMERICAN  BOATS. 


335 


horse.  I was  now  on  foot,  and  went  along  very  quietly 
in  the  hot  sunshine.  At  the  village  we  were  surrounded 
by  the  inhabitants  in  an  instant,  and,  their  curiosity  hav- 
ing been  first  satisfied,  they  brought  us  what  they  had 
collected  during  our  absence  up  the  river. 

The  stranger  to  Egypt  perhaps  wonders  what  sort  of 
antiques  we  can  expect  to  find  in  such  places.  Certainly 
it  must  be  something  smaller  than  a statue  or  sphinx,  for 
these  are  plenty,  and  whoever  wishes  to  load  a ship  with 
one  or  a dozen  may  do  so.  But  the  tombs  of  Egypt  in- 
close unknown  treasures  of  antiquity.  Of  these,  to  the 
traveler,  jewelry  and  articles  of  j>ersonal  ornament  are 
usually  most  curious  and  desirable,  and  the  tombs  often 
furnish  these  of  great  beauty  and  value. 

It  was  in  hopes  that  we  might  find  something  valuable 
that  we  made  constant  purchase  of  all  the  trifles  that  the 
people  brought  to  us ; and,  after  loading  ourselves  with 
earthern  figures,  images  of  various  sorts,  and  coins  in  pro- 
fusion, of  various  ages  and  conditions,  we  came  down  to 
the  boat,  which  had  dropjDed  down  the  river  to  a point 
opposite  the  village.  On  the  broad  plain  of  El  Kab  that 
day  we  had  a perfect  mirage  ; so  perfect,  that  with  a full 
assurance  of  the  impossibility  of  seeing  the  river,  we  dis- 
puted the  possibility  of  a mirage  on  so  small  a plain,  and 
refused  to  believe  it  was  not  water  until  we  marked  its 
boundary,  and  rode  up  to  that  boundary. 

That  afternoon  we  cast  off  from  the  shore,  the  Breeze 

being  ahead  of  us,  and  Mr.  B having  come  on  board 

our  boat.  After  dinner,  while  we  were  quietly  sipping 
our  wine,  we  were  roused  by  the  Arabs  crying  out  that 
there  was  an  American  flag  ahead,  and  rushmg  out  on 
deck  we  saw  a boat  coming  up  with  a fresh  breeze,  and 
behind  it  yet  another,  carrying  also  the  stars  and  stripes. 
It  was  a sight  worth  seeing  that,  and  not  very  common 
any  where  in  the  eastern  world.  Four  American  boats 


336 


TOBACCO. 


together  on  the  Kile  ! Of  course  we  all  shouted — every 
body  must  shout  under  such  circumstances.  Trumbull, 

Mr.  R , and  myself  sprang  into  our  small  boat 

and  boarded  the  other  boats — the  ladies  having  only 
waved  their  hands  and  helped  the  shouting  a little.  The 
Phantom  and  the  Breeze  went  drifting  down  the  river, 
and  we  went  up  with  the  new-comers,  who  could  give  us 
late  news  from  home  and  from  the  civilized  world,  to 
which  we  had  so  long  been  comjDarative  strangers ; and 
at  length,  as  evening  approached,  we  suddenly  remem- 
bered that  the  Phantom  and  the  Breeze  were  gone. 

We  sprang  ashore  and  hastened  down  the  bank  of  the 
river.  A mile  below,  we  found  our  small  boat  waiting 
for  us,  and  into  this  we  hastened.  The  sun  was  setting — 
short  twilight  followed.  The  night  came  down,  dark  and 
cold.  There  were  pipes  in  the  boat,  and  tobacco  plenty, 
that  universal  solace.  Let  me  see  the  man  that  dares 
talk  to  me  of  the  “ deleterious  effects  of  nicotine,”  when 
I am  recalling  its  delicious  consolations  in  such  times  as 
was  that. 

Eight — nine — ten  o’clock,  and  still  the  men  rowed,  and 
still  no  signs  of  the  Phantom  or  the  Breeze. 

“Kow,  men — lay  on  well — pull,  pull — you  shall  have 
Tombak  to-night and  they  sent  her  through  the  cur- 
rent, six  of  them  pulling  well,  until  my  pistol  was  an- 
swered far  down  the  river,  and  the  red  light  flashed 
out  at  last.  The  boats  were  side  by  side,  their  bright 
cabin  lights  shining  on  each  other. 

Were  you  ever  abroad  on  a cold  night  of  autumn,  and 
driving  homeward  over  weary  hills  ? and  do  you  remem- 
ber the  delight  of  the  warm  room,  the  cheerful  lamp,  the 
hissing  tea  urn,  and  the  welcome  of  pleasant  lips  ? Such 
was  ours  in  the  cabin  of  the  Phantom 


3^. 


Scl]hief  the  Tlesiil'l'ectioiiigt- 


At  midnight  we  were  at  Esne,  and  in  the  morning  I 
went  again  up  to  the  temple. 

The  mummies  lay  as  I had  left  them  some  weeks  be- 
fore, no  traveler  having  ventured  to  disturb  their  repose. 
There  were  several  boats  at  Esne,  and  while  I sat  in  the 
•portico  of  the  temple,  one,  and  another,  and  another 
stranger  came  in,  and  voices  of  vrtiious  lands  disturbed 
the  quiet  of'  Ptolemaic  times. 

The  governor  had  no  donkey  that  suited  me  or  Abd-el- 
Atti,  w’hom  I represented.  He  came  down  to  the  boat 
■with  a drove  of  them,  large  and  small,  gray  and  black, 
male  and  female,  but  he  said  himself  that  he  could  not 
scare  up  one  that  he  could  recommend,  and  I left  a gen- 
eral order  to  have  one  sent  down  by  boat  to  Cairo,  and 
so  we  departed. 

I was  dozing  on  the  upper  deck  after  an  evening  chi- 
bouk, discussing  Avith  Trumbull  the  shape  of  some  hiero- 
glyphic about  which  our  memories  differed,  AA’hen  the 
Phantom  brought  up  Avith  a plunge  on  a sand  bank  that 
sent  the  roAvers  over  backAvard  into  each  other’s  laps,  and 
disturbed  Peis  Hassanein’s  stupidity  to  an  alarming  de- 
gree. He  raved,  stormed,  SAvore,  called  on  Allah,  and 
voAved  over  and  again  that  there  Avas  no  Illah  but  Allah, 
but  it  Avas  all  of  no  use.  Three  hours  she  lay  there,  and 

15 


338 


STROLLS  ALONG  SHORE. 


two  more  on  other  hanks  before  the  morning,  and  then 
as  we  approached  the  Gebelein  it  was  blowing  a hurricane 
lip  the  river  and  he  couldn’t  get  along  an  inch,  and  we 
lay-to  from  morning  till  nearly  sunset.  Two  or  three 
boats  dashed  up  the  river  in  glorious  style,  exchanging 
salutes  with  us  as  they  passed.  Seeing  one  with  Ameri- 
can colors  coming  up,  we  pulled  out  toward  her,  and  as 
they  saw  our  flags,  for  the  Breeze  was  lying  near  us,  they 
let  their  sheet  fly  and  rounded  to  close  by  us,  and  made 
a call  on  the  ladies.  It  proved  to  be  the  boat  of  two 
gentlemen  from  New  Orleans,  who  had  met  some  of  the 
party  on  the  Breeze  some  where  in  Europe  months  before. 
These  pleasant  reunions  are  among  the  most  inspiriting 
incidents  of  foreign  travel.  They  made  a half-hour  call, 
and  then  flew  on  before  the  breeze,  of  which  we  could 
not  wish  them  a continuance,  for  we  were  by  it  kept  back 
from  Thebes,  which  lay  half  a day  from  us. 

I strolled  ofl*  over  the  fields  with  Abd-el-Atti  and  a 
milk-pail.  Among  my  pleasantest  recollections  of  Egypt 
are  those  adventures  with  Abd-el-Atti  among  the  fella- 
been.  While  he  sought  some  one  who  would  sell  him 
milk,  I sat  down  in  a sunny  place  and  chatted  with  the 
crowd  of  curious  people  who  came  around  me.  Once  in 
a while  I bought  a valuable  antique,  and  many  rare  coins 
I picked  up  in  those  places.  There  is  but  one  memory  of 
that  day  that  is  specially  fixed  on  my  mind. 

On  the  bank  of  the  river,  near  this  village,  I sat  down 
and  watched  the  women  coming  for  water.  One  and 
another  came,  each  helping  the  one  before  her  to  lift  the 
enormous  jar  to  the  top  of  her  head. 

At  length  there  appeared  one  of  the  noblest  specimens 
of  feminine  beauty  that  I remember.  A tall  and  splend- 
idly formed  girl  came  down  close  by  me,  the  wind  blow- 
ing back  her  single  thin  cotton  garment  so  as  to  reveal 
the  outlines  of  a perfect  form,  one  that  Praxiteles  might 


A DUMB  BEAUTY. 


339 


have  dreamed,  one  such  as  it  is  seldom  permitted  human 
eyes  to  see.  Her  tunic  was  open  from  neck  to  waist,  and 
her  bust,  contrary  to  the  common  appearance  of  the 
Egyptian  women,  was  full  and  of  delicate  outline.  Her 
face  was  Greek,  her  lips  classical  in  their  severe  beauty. 

Imagine  my  astonishment  as  this  vision  swept  by  me, 
not  three  feet  distant,  and  paused  within  a rod  to  dip 
water  in  a heavy  jar.  I gazed  admiringly  at  her,  as 
who  would  not  ? She  returned  my  gaze  with  cold  curi- 
osity, and  eyes  devoid  of  interest,  but  dark,  lustrous  eyes 
withal,  that  had  fire  in  them  which  might  be  made  to 
flame. 

She  had  on  her  neck  a string  of  antiques,  chiefly  scara- 
baci.  I had  seen  them  thus  before,  and  had  purchased 
some  curious  antiques  from  the  necks  and  wrists  of  the 
women.  I walked  up  to  her  and  took  hold  of  them. 
She  stood  like  a statue,  motionless,  Avith  her  black  eyes 
fixed  on  mine,  but  was  silent,  and  allowed  my  examina- 
tion without  fear  or  objection. 

“ How  much  shall  I pay  you  for  your  necklace  ?” 

She  looked,  but  made  no  reply,  and  stooping  down, 
lifted  her  jar ; a friend  helped  her  swing  it  to  her  head, 
and  then,  dropping  her  hands,  she  walked  up'  the  bank  in 
stately  style,  nor  looked  back,  nor  seemed  to  have  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  fate  of  Braheem  Efiendi.  To  be 
cut  thus  by  an  Egyptian ! On  reflection,  I have  thought 
that  she  was  perhaps  deaf  and  dumb — possibly  ’ idiotic, 
but  I think  not  that,  for  she  Avas  too  splendidly  beau- 
tiful. 

It  Avas  after  midnight — a calm,  still  night — when  we 
SAvept  around  the  loAver  point  of  the  island,  and  swinging 
into  the  branch  Avhich  comes  doAvn  from  the  eastward, 
laid'our  boat  at  the  land  close  under  the  columns  of  the 
Temple  of  Luxor.  The  men  were  A^ery  still  in  all  their 
movements,  for  the  ladies  were  sleeping,  and  Ave  had  a 


340 


LUXOR  BY  NIGHT. 


crew  that  were  remarkably  intelligent  for  Arabs,  and  re- 
markably attentive  to  our  wishes. 

Trumbull  and  I sat  on  the  cabin-deck,  wrapped  in  our 
cloaks,  for  the  night  was  cool,  and  watched  the  growing 
magnificence  of  the  temple  as  we  approached  it.  It 
seemed  to  rise  in  the  air  before  us,  and  its  stupendous 
proportions  became  gigantic,  even  supernatural,  in  that 
dim  light  which  seems  always  to  be  the  fitting  shroud 
of  Egyptian  grandeur.  The  columns  of  the  principal 
court — which  are  now  the  only  portion  fronting  on  the 
river,  the  rest  being  concealed  by  mud  houses — appeared, 
in  their  lonesome  greatness,  like  the  memorials  of  a race 
of  men  that  knew  and  talked  with  gods.  In  their  shad- 
owy presence  we  could  well  imagine  the  ghosts  of  the 
departed  watching  our  arrival. 

There  were  no  boats  at  Luxor.  The  fresh  wind  of  the 
previous  day  was  too  valuable  to  upward-bound  travelers, 
and  they  had  all  gone  on  Vvdthout  pausing  to  look  at  Thebes. 
It  was  well  for  us  that  it  was  so,  for  it  appeared  more  as 
if  we  were  arriving  at  the  desolate  site  of  an  ancient 
city,  and  less  hke  a resort  of  modern  sight-seers.  A few 
days  later,  wdien  there  were  four  or  five  boats  lying  at  the 
shore,  and  morning  and  evening  saw  ten  or  fifteen  gayly- 
dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  strolling  across  the  open 
space  Avhich  lies  between  the  temple  and  the  beach,  the 
scene  was  very  difierent,  and  almost  modern.  But  now 
all  was  profoundly  ancient.  The  very  skies  for  once  looked 
old,  as  they  bent  down  over  the  site  of  a city  of  a hun- 
dred temple-gates,  and  the  stars — 

What  a vigil  theirs  has  been  above  the  mighty  Nile ! 
The  steady  march  of  Time  has  been  below ; God  never 
yet  permitted  him  to  tread  the  sapphire  floors  above. 
There,  all  is  as  it  Tvas  when  Eve  was  young  in  Eden,  and 
human  love  and  hope  were  as  pure  as  the  hopes  and  loves 
of  angels.  Below,  all  is  changed ; the  mark  of  years  is 


LIGHT  AMONG  THE  TOMBS. 


341 


on  every  thing.  But  nowhere  on  the  surface  of  the  little 
globe  that  we  call  earth — nowhere,  has  the  vigil  been  as 
sad  as  here. 

It  was  in  the  morning  of  the  new  world — in  the  very 
dawn  of  human  existence  after  the  flood — that  the  found- 
ations of  this  city  were  laid.  He  who  led  his  followers 
here  had  heard  the  story  of  the  deluge  from  Xoah,  per- 
haps had  seen  its  subsiding  waves.  And  after  him  nations 
and  races  swept  over  Egypt,  and  dynasties  changed  with 
the  shifting  desert  sand,  and  the  river  rose  and  fell,  and 
rose  and  fell,  and  the  same  solemn,  calm  watchers,  looked 
down,  night  after  night,  on  all. 

I thought  of  one  scene  as  I sat  that  night  on  deck. 
You  may  think  it  an  imagination,  pure  fancy,  or  what 
you  please.  It  is  vain  to  forbid  imaginations  in  such  a 
place  as  that.  Midnight,  profound  and  calm  ; moonlight, 
holy  as  the  memories  that  seemed  verily  to  compose  it ; 
stars,  watching  with  deep  eyes  the  plains  of  their  long 
vigil ; ruins,  that  were  gray  centuries  ago,  and  on  whose 
mystical  forms  the  men  of  early  ages  gazed  with  as  much 
of  awe  and  wonder  as  we  do  now — all  this  in  a land 
where  men  had  lived  and  toiled,  had  walked  and  talked, 
and  eaten,  and  drunken,  and  slept,  had  lived  and  perished, 
in  successive  generations,  since  a period  to  which  neither 
record  nor  tradition  can  assign  a date — all  this,  I say,  was 
certainly  enough  to  rouse  imagination,  and  quicken  fancy 
to  its  freest  play. 

Once,  as  the  boat  was  coming  to  the  land,  I looked 
across  to  the  western  hills,  above  the  throne  of  Memnon, 
and  for  an  instant  saw  a flashing  light,  that  might  have 
passed  for  a will-o’-the-wisp  among  the  graves  of  the  an- 
cient Thebans.  I knew  it  was  no  ghost  light,  and  I knew 
as  w’ell  that  it  was  a veritable  farthing-dip,  and  no  doubt 
held  in  the  hands  of  an  Arab  who  was  so  intent  on  his 
w’ork  of  robbing  a newly-opened  tomb,  that  he  forgot  his 


342 


THE  AVENUE  OF  MEM NON. 


caution  for  a moment,  and  allowed  his  light  to  shine  out 
on  the  plain.  Perhaps  no  other  person  saw  it,  hut  it  was 
enough  to  call  before  me  the  scene  on  the  hillside,  and  in 
an  instant  all  of  its  wild  strangeness  was  present  to  my 
imagination. 

This  hillside,  as  the  reader  already  knows,  is  full  of  the 
dead.  It  is  very  manifest  that  a broad  street  once  crossed 
the  plain,  near  the  head  of  which  Memnon  and  his  silent 
companion  sit  now  as  then,  and  the  passage  between  them 
led  onward,  by  temple  walls  and  stately  erections,  to  the 
place  of  burial — the  place  where  now,  from  day  to  day, 
we  open  tombs  and  disturb  the  rest  of  ancient  Egyptians. 
That  all  is  changed,  no  one  need  be  told.  The  great 
plain  of  Thebes  is  a cultivated  field,  and  Memnon  and  his 
nameless  companion  sit  in  solitary  grandeur,  looking  with 
mournfully-fixed  gaze  half  the  year  on  the  flood  that 
spreads  around  their  feet,  and  the  other  half  over  the 
desolate  site  of  the  great  city.  But  Memnon  would  not 
sit  so  quietly  on  his  rocky  throne  if  the  desecration  that 
is  carried  on  behind  his  back  were  j^erpetrated  before  his 
eyes.  It  would  rouse  an  Egyptian  god  from  his  stony 
silence,  and  startle  the  very  sleep  of  granite  kings  to  see 
the  hideous  disentombment  of  their  ancient  followers,  and 
the  profane  pollutions  of  the  sanctuaries  they  built  to 
sleep  in  till  the  return  of  Osiris. 

It  was  up  this  broad  street  of  temples,  statues,  and  pal- 
aces that  the  funeral  processions  in  former  days  w^ere  con- 
ducted, and  the  dead  were  carried  with  kingly  pomp  to 
tombs  that  are  now  invaded  by  the  Arabs  of  Goornou, 
who  work  by  night  for  fear  of  the  government. 

Achmet  was  abroad  that  night.  I thought  it  was  he, 
and  he  told  me  next  day  that  I was  correct.  He  had  dis- 
covered the  entrance  to  a new  tomb,  and  when  his  light 
flashed  on  my  eye,  he  and  his  companions,  ten  half-naked 
Arabs,  had  at  length  burst  in  the  rocky  wall,  and  the 


AN  ANCIENT  PRINCE. 


343 


magnificent  starlight  of  Thebes  shone  on  the  resting-place 
of  an  ancient  prince. 

Long  ago,  longer  ago  than  with  our  feeble  powers  we 
can  count,  in  the  days  when  Joshua  was  judging  the  chil- 
dren of  Jacob  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  that  tomb  was  closed 
on  the  last  of  the  group  of  sleepers  that  lay  in  its  gloom. 
He  was  a prince  and  priest,  and  yonder,  across  the  jfiain, 
stands  the  great  temple  within  whose  w^alls  he  had  wor- 
shiped, and  ofiered  incense  and  sacrifice.  One  by  one  he 
had  laid  in  this  tomb  the  beloved  dead  of  his  household. 
Men  had  affections  in  ancient  days  as  now.  Men  loved  in 
old  times  as  in  modern.  They  looked  on  fair  brows,  lost 
themselves  in  the  depths  of  blue  eyes,  clasped  graceful 
forms  to  their  breasts  with  all  the  passionate  fondness  of 
men  in  these  days.  And  women  were  as  lovely  then  as 
now.  Who  on  earth  could  be  more  ravishingly  beautiful 
than  was  the  wife  of  Abraham,  whom  kings  adored? 
Who  more  divinely  fair  than  Rachel,  whose  young  and 
delicate  beauty  won  the  heart  of  Jacob  when  it  was 
growing  cold  in  years  that  we  think  now  almost  too  old 
for  human  passion  ? 

Why,  then,  may  I not  imagine  that  she  whom  this  great 
prince  loved  was  young  and  very  beautiful  ? That  her 
brow  had  on  it  the  stately  light  that  I have  seen  before 
the  sun  arose  on  the  cold,  calm  brow  of  Remeses,  and 
that  her  eye  had  the  liquid  beauty  and  unfathomable 
glory  of  the  sky  that  was  above  me  that  night,  in  whose 
serene,  calm  distances  the  eye  of  a lover  could  see  worlds 
of  beauty  and  starry  radiance  ? Her  form  was  of  the  mould 
of  the  olden  time,  not  long  removed  from  that  of  Eden. 
Thei’e  were  but  a few  generations  (for  generations  were 
centuries  long)  between  her  and  her  mother  Eve,  and  she 
had  somewhat  of  the  music  of  j^aradise  in  her  voice.  And 
she  too  was  woman,  and  was  human : woman,  for  she 
loved  him;  human,  for  she  died.  Woman,  for  that  her 


344 


ALL  DEAD. 


heart  i^oured  out  her  overflowing  love  on  him;  and 
human,  for  that  with  that  love  went  forth  her  strength, 
and  he  could  not  keep  her  back  from  the  dark  road  on 
which  she  went  aAvay. 

Yea,  she  died.  There  are  pictures  of  such  scenes  on 
the  monuments.  With  her  slender  arms  wound  tight 
around  his  neck,  with  her  warm  throbbing  breasts  pressed 
close  to  his,  with  her  hot  lips  on  his,  and  her  breath  thick 
with  kisses,  she  went  from  him.  He  laid  her  young  head, 
heavy  with  golden  tresses,  on  the  pillov/,  and  before  he 
left  her,  gazed  one  instant  with  unutterable  longing  on 
the  face  he  should  behold  no  more  until  those  distant 
times  when  he  and  she  would  wake  at  the  voice  of  Osiris. 
Other  hands — for  such  was  the  custom — robed  her  for  the 
grave,  and  wrapped  her  precious  body  in  the  spices  and 
perfumes  that  should  keep  it  safe  from  decay,  and  he  fol- 
lowed her  with  feeble  steps  to  the  tomb,  and  closed  it  on 
the  light  of  his  life. 

Yf hat  vigils,  outlasting  the  vigil  of  the  stars,  he  kept ! 
What  long  nights  of  his  agony  went  heavily  by  as  he  sat 
and  looked  toward  the  hill  in  which  she  slept,  who  can 
tell  ? But  there  came  an  liour — the  hour  that  comes  to 
all  men — when  there  was  a darkening  of  the  light,  a gath- 
ering of  gloom,  and  then  the  blackness  of  darkness,  and 
lie  too  was  gone  into  the  unknown  abodes  into  which 
Egyptian  philosophy  had  vainly  sought  to  look.  If,  as  they 
sometimes  in  their  varying  forms  of  belief  had  thought,  the 
soul  of  the  dead  prince  hovered  around  its  late  residence 
until  it  was  laid  by  the  beloved  dead  in  the  hill,  then  his 
spirit  once  more  looked  into  the  tomb  and  beheld  the 
dead  girl  that  had  been  so  startlingly  beautiful  lying  in 
the  calm  and  profound  rejDose  that  resists  all  the  endear- 
ing epithets  with  which  broken-hearted  affection  seeks  to 
awaken  the  dust,  and  then  his  dust  slept  beside  her. 

The  flashing  torches  that  had  accompanied  his  funereal 
pageant  lit  the  recesses  gf  his  tomb  once  more,  and  the 


STARLIGHT. 


345 


rays  of  Sirius  and  the  faithful  stars  penetrated  the  inner 
gloom  once  more,  and  were  once  more  shut  out  with  his 
departing  soul  as  it  sought  the  distant  and  unknown  resi- 
dence of  the  Osirian  shades.  And  tlien  they  fell  on  the 
sculptured  stones  before  the  door,  and  then  on  crumbling 
rocks  and  drifting  sand,  and  when  a thousand  years  had 
been  three  times  told  on  the  circles  of  heaven,  the  gray 
rocks  of  the  western  hills,  in  ragged  desolation,  lay  piled 
deep  over  the  silent  company  that  there  waited  the  return 
of  the  immortals. 

And  they  came.  Imagination  may  be  pardoned  thus 
far.  When  Achmet  and  his  Arab  companions  tore  down 
the  last  pile  of  rock,  and  broke  through  the  wall  with  their 
rude  picks  and  skeleton-like  fingers ; when  the  starlight 
sprang  joyously  into  the  gloom,  among  that  group  of 
gaunt  men  were  shadowy  forms  flitting  in  the  varying 
light,  and  looking  with  an  interest  more  intense  than  any 
mere  human  being  could  feel  in  the  presence  of  clay  that 
had  been  living  man  three  thousand  years  ago. 

Tliey,  the  Arabs,  entered  the  silent  place,  and  before 
them,  in  quiet  that  might  have  startled  a man,  but  which 
was  nothing  to  the  inanimate  souls  of  these  poor  dogs-^ 
the  quiet  of  uncounted  centuries — lay  the  dead  prince  and 
his  dead  wife,  as  they  had  wished  to  lie  until  the  reunion 
of  body  to  soul.  With  what  emotion  they  beheld  the 
breaking  up  of  that  long  and  calm  companionship,  1 dared 
not  think.  The  light  of  Achmet  flashed  far  out  on  hill 
and  valley,  and  was  extinguished,  and  then  they  carried 
them  away.  What  fingers  tore  the  coverings  from  her 
delicate  arms  ! What  rude  hands  were  around  her  neck, 
that  was  once  white  and  beautiful ! What  sacrilegious 
wretches  wrested  the  jeweled  amulet  from  its  holy  place 
between  those  breasts,  once  white  and  heaving  full  of 
love  and  life,  and  bared  her  limbs  to  the  winds,  and  cast 
them  out  on  the  desert  sand ! 

15* 


33. 


Iliebe§  fl}e  Magiiif ieeiif. 

Our  stay  at  Thebes  was  to  be  limited  only  by  our  in- 
clinations. Dr.  Abbott  had  lent  me  a tent,  which  we 
pitched  on  the  shore  close  by  the  boat,  carried  into  it  our 
deck  sofa  and  the  Xubian  mats  which  Abdul  Rahman  had 
given  us,  spread  our  Persian  carpets,  and  over  it  set  the 
American  flag  by  way  of  notice  to  all  travelers  that  here 
was  a temporary  American  home. 

Many  a pleasant  evening  we  had  in  that  tent,  and  I re- 
call it  with  chiefest  pleasure  as  the  place  of  meeting  with 
my  friend  Whitely,  who  subsequently  wandered  with  me 
through  Holy  Land,  along  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  in 
Stamboul  and  up  the  Bosphorus  to  the  “ Cyanean  Symple- 
gades,”  in  Athens  and  along  the  bay  of  Salamis,  in  Italy 
and  through  many  sunny  valleys  of  Euroi^e,  to  be  forever 
remembered. 

In  that  tent  many  beautiful  women  of  many  lands  sat 
in  the  starry  evenings.  In  that  tent  I met  frequently  a 
young  Englishman,  an  artist  traveler,  and  talked  with  him 
of  art  and  antiquity,  and  before  I left  Thebes  I buried  him 
in  the  dust  of  that  ancient  plain. 

The  memories  of  that  tent  on  the  shore  of  Luxor  are 
varied  and  pleasant,  and  its  evening  histories  alone  would 
fill  a volume. 

Walking  down  Wall-street  a few  weeks  ago  I met  just 


THE  FIRST  MORNING. 


S47 


in  front  of  the  Custom  House  a man  whose  grasp  on  my 
arm  was  as  firm  as  if  he  had  been  the  sheriff,  and  I had 
been — no  matter  who.  I looked  up  in  his  face  and  recog- 
nized one  of  a party  that  praised  Hajji  Mohammed’s  coffee 
many  a pleasant  evening  in  the  tent,  when,  tired  with  the 
long  day’s  labor  of  sight-seeing  or  of  study,  we  gathered 
around  the  bright  eyes  of  Amy  and  Miriam  and  reminded 
ourselves  of  home-scenes  in  far  ofiT  countries. 

Mustapha  Aga  was  down  early  in  the  morning  to 
report  progress  in  the  excavations  I had  directed,  and 
after  breakfast  we  crossed  the  river,  commencing  our 
strolls  among  the  ancient  ruins  of  Thebes  with  Medeenet 
Habou.  Understand,  once  for  all,  that  the  ruins  of  what 
is  commonly  called  Thebes  lie  on  both  sides  of  the  Nile, 
although  we  usually  distinguish  those  on  the  west  by 
this  name  as  separate  from  Luxor  and  Karnak,  which  are 
on  the  east.  The  broad  plain  of  Egypt,  which  is  here 
more  extensive  than  on  any  other  portion  of  the  banks 
of  the  Nile  above  the  Delta,  was  once  covered  by  the 
city,  tvhich  has  come  down  to  us,  in  tradition  and  song, 
as  one  of 'the  most  magnificent  of  the  Old  World.  But 
there  remain  of  it  now  only  a few  isolated  groups  of 
ruins.  Of  these  the  greatest  by  far,  and  the  most  mag- 
nificent relic  of  ancient  grandeur  on  the  earth,  is  Karnak, 
situated  on  the  east  bank  about  a mile  from  the  river. 
Luxor  [El  Uksorein — the  Two  Palaces)  is  also^  on  the 
east  bank. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  river,  at  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  the  plain,  lie  Medeenet  Habou  and  the  group 
of  ruins  around  the  temple  palace  of  Remeses.  This  is 
at  the  base  of  the  western  hills,  and  three  miles  from  the 
river-bed,  but  the  inundation  reaches  its  very  walls.  To 
the  north  of  this  the  two  colossi  sit  on  the  plain,  a little 
nearer  to  the  river  than  the  straight  line  which  wmuld 
connect  Medeenet  Habou  and  the  Remeseion,  or  Memno- 


348 


M E D E E N E T H A B 0 U . 


Ilium.  The  latter  is  the  next  great  ruin  north  of  the 
colossi,  and  then  nothing  of  importance  is  found  until 
we  reach  the  temple  at  Goornou,  three  miles  further 
north.  All  these  ruins  are  at  the  base  of  the  hills  and 
edge  of  the  plain,  bemg  at  the  extreme  limit  of  the  in- 
undation, and  behind  and  around  them  all  are  the  count- 
less tombs  of  the  dead  of  old  times. 

A crowd  of  donkey-boys  aud  men  were  on  tlie  western 
bank  awaiting  our  landing.  It  reminded  one  of  a Xew 
York  steamer  landing.  AVe  selected  a certain  number 
of  the  small  animals  for  constant  use  during  our  stay  at 
Thebes,  and,  mounted  on  these,  crossed  the  sandy  shore 
and  the  dry  bed  of  a branch  of  the  river,  ascended  tho 
true  bank,  which  lies  west  of  this  branch,  and  ymre  on 
the  broad  level  plain  over  which  the  colossi,  grand  and 
majestic,  gaze  with  steadfast  eyes.  Riding  toward  them 
a mile,  and  then  diverging  to  the  left,  we  reached 
Medeenet  Ilabou,  and  entered  its  ruins  with  profound 
awe.  Xeither  shall  I pause  here  to  describe  the  ruins  of 
old  Egypt.  Human  povrer  of  description  is  vain  in  the 
attempt  to  convey  any  idea  of  the  grandeur  of  these 
colossal  ruins,  or  of  the  startling  effect  produced  on  the 
visitor,  who  finds  lofty  corridors  and  columns  exposed  to 
the  winds  of  centuries,  yet  gleaming  with  the  brilliant 
colors  which  were  laid  on  them  thousands  of  years  ago. 

This  temple,  or  these  temples  and  the  palace  connected 
with  them,  are  the  work  of  the  great  Sesostris,  as  are 
most  of  the  grand  relics  of  ancient  Egypt  now  standing 
in  the  upper  country.  In  the  front  portions  of  the  build- 
ings were  his  private  rooms,  and  these  are  especially  in- 
teresting as  affording  us  an  occasional  insight  into  the 
iwivate  life  of  the  monarch.  Here  he  was  accustomed  to 
retire  from  war,  or  from  the  council,  and  the  walls  are 
covered  with  sculptured  designs,  showing  him  engaged 
in  games,  and  in  the  repose  of  home  life. 


luncheon  in  the  temple. 


349 


It  is  interesting  to  remark  him  in  one  picture  play- 
ing at  a game  of  draughts,  nor  is  this  the  only  instance 
on  the  monuments  where  this  game  is  represented. 

Passing  into  the  grand  hall  of  the  principal  temple  we 
sat  down  in  silent  admiration  and  reverence  before  the 
splendor  of  that  scene.  It  was  a sudden  stepping  from 
the  present  into  the  past,  and  although  it  was  the  dead 
and  half-buried  past  in  one  respect,  yet  in  others  it  was 
the  living ; the  mighty  days  of  old  even  before  our  eyes, 
and  demanding  our  reverential  awe. 

- The  deeds  of  the  great  Remeses  were  recorded  around 
us  in  sculptures  that  needed  no  interpreter.  Here  he 
pursued  his  flying  enemies,  and  his  shafts  carried  death 
into  their  disordered  ranks ; there  he  conquered  lions 
that  rushed  on  him  from  a thicket ; here  was  a naval 
combat ; there  the  fiercest  fray  that  was  ever  known  on 
Asiatic  fields.  Here  his  chariot  went  rushing  over  dead 
and  dying;  there  he  carried  his  captives  in  triumph 
home,  and  received  from  his  accountants  the  tongues 
and  hands  of  the  slain  as  trophies,  whose  hideous  number 
is  carved  on  the  wall. 

There  was  the-pedestal  of  a giant  column  standing  in 
the  court,  from  which  the  column  had  been  hurled.  The 
sun  was  not  far  westward,  but  the  lofty  architrave  hid 
it  from  us,  and  in  the  cool  shade  we  sat  around  the 
pedestal  which  Ferrajj  had  transformed  into  a table, 
loaded  with  eatables,  where  we  made  a most  hearty  lunch- 
eon. Two  English  gentlemen,  strangers  to  us,  who  were 
rambling  through  the  ruins,  accepted  our  invitation  to 
try  our  claret,  and  I have  often  Avondered  since  who  they 
were,  and  Avhether  they  remember  that  luncheon  in  the 
temple  of  Remeses  the  Great. 

I am  describing  our  first  visit  to  this  grand  ruin  only 
because  that  is  first  in  my  notes  and  my  memory.  Xo 
one  will  suppose  that  it  was  our  last,  or  expect  me  to  de- 


350 


EVENING  IN  THE  TENT. 


scribe  each  and  every  pilgrimage  that  I made  to  these 
or  other  ancient  shrines.  It  was  not  till  the  snn  was 
setting  behind  the  western  hills  that  we  turned  our  faces 
liomeward. 

The  ladies  mounted  their  donkeys  and  went  olF  over 
the  plain  toward  the  colossi  at  a flying  galloj),  attended 
by  the  boys,  and  half  a dozen  Arabs  who  wished  to  sell 
antiques.  The  long  shadows  of  the  hills  were  stealing 
across  the  plain,  and  we  all  sat  down  in  the  dust  before 
the  cold  face  of  Memnon  and  gazed  on  his  gray  figure — 
that  figure  that  has  been  more  celebrated  in  history  and 
story  than  any  other  antiquity  on  the  earth’s  surface — 
until  the  gathering  twilight  warned  us  to*be  away. 

We  dined  on  the  boat,  and  had  coflee  sent  up  to  us  in 
the  tent,  where  we  were  joined  by  half  a dozen  ladies  and 
gentlemen  from  other  boats  just  arrived,  Mustapha  Aga 
and  Sheik  Hassan,  of  Goornou,  who  came  to  talk  about 
some  new  excavations  to  be  made,  and  Mr.  Tonge,  the 
young  English  artist,  of  whom  I have  spoken,  who  was 
making  sketches  at  and  near  Thebes.  The  scene  within 
the  tent  was  brilliant  enough  for  home-land,  and  Amy 
and  Miriam  will  neither  of  them  be  apt  to  entertain  a 
gayer  or  more  picturesque  company  than  sat  on  their 
Persian  carpets  that  evening  on  the  shore  at  Luxor. 

In  my  notes  of  visits  to  various  places  of  interest 
about  Thebes,  I shall  not  attenipt  to  confine  myself  to  the 
order  of  the  days  or  visits  as  I made  them.  I was  con- 
stantly among  the  ruins,  now  sujDerintending  excavations, 
and  now  visiting  jflaces  of  famous  name. 

I do  not  recollect  what  day  it  was  that  we  first  visited 
the  tombs  of  the  Assaseef^  which  lie  on  the  eastern  side 
of  the  hill,  and  not  very  far  distant  from  the  ruins  of  the 
Pemeseion.  To  reach  them,  it  was  necessary  to  go 
across  the  plain,  passing  the  great  statue  of  Memnon,  and 


THE  REMESEION. 


351 


passing  also  the  ruins  of  the  Remeseion,  in  which  we 
j)aused  on  our  way. 

We  mounted  our  donkeys  at  the  shore  opposite  to 
Luxor,  and  started  off  in  fine  spirits,  I myself  being  on 
foot ; for  by  this  time  I was  able  to  walk  miles  witho’ut 
fatigue,  and  to  pass  an  entire  day  on  the  tramp  without 
having  occasion  to  regret  it  in  the  evening.  We  paused 
a moment,  as  we  always  did,  under  the  shadow  of  Mem- 
non,  and  looked  up  at  his  colossal  form,  while  one  rushing 
wave  of  thought  rolled  over  us,  as  it  always  must  and  will 
in  presence  of  that  mighty  relic  of  antiquity,  and  then  we 
passed  on  to  the  temple  ruins  and  to  the  hills  beyond. 
We  did  not  go  by  the  temple  without  the  usual  mob  of 
antiquity-venders  approaching  us  with  their  wares,  con- 
sisting of  every  thing,  from  mummies’  heads  and  feet  to 
newly-manufactured  scarabsei,  wherewith  to  entrap  the 
green  Howajji.  But  by  this  time  they  had  gotten  to 
knowing  us  well,  and  they  retired  rapidly,  except  one  old 
Copt,  who  had  a curious  and  valuable  antique  that  he 
Avished  us  to  buy,  but  which  he  valued  at  a price  not 
much  less  than  a quarter  of  Avhat  Dr.  Abbott  asks  for  his 
entire  collection.  Again  Ave  paused  a moment. 

Though  Ave  had  visited  the  Remeseion  again  and  again, 
there  Avas  a sublimity  about  its  ruins,  and,  more  than 
all,  about  the  fallen  statue  of  the  great  Sesostris,  that 
mighty  trunk  that  lies  on  the  sand  in  solemn  silence 
amidst  the  broken  fragments  of  his  ancient  throne  and  the 
fallen  walls  of  his  once  glorious  temple — a sublimity  that 
commanded  our  respect  however  often  we  passed  before 
it,  and  we  did  homage  once  more  to  the  presence  and 
power  of  the  great  past.  The  high  sun  looked  doA\m  Avith 
aAve  and  subdued  splendor  on  that  scene,  and  there  was  a 
quiet  sereneness  Avith  which  his  rays  fell  among  those 
ruins  that  I thought  very  different  from  the  glare  on 
the  outer  desert,  or  the  broad  plain  of  modern  Thebes. 


352 


TOMBS  OF  THEBES. 


A solitary  vulture  sat  on  the  summit  of  the  great  pro- 
pylon, and  looked  on  me  with  sleepy  eyes  as  I sat  on 
the  sand  in  silence  and  gazed  on  the  fallen  Osymandyas. 

The  beauty  and  gracefulness  of  the  grand  hall  of  the 
Memnonium  or  Remeseion  perhaps  surpasses  any  other 
ruin  in  Egypt,  and  one  might  linger  here  for  weeks,  lost 
in  admiration  and  astonishment.  But  this  morning  we 
had  a day’s  work  before  us,  and  it  was  necessary  to 
j^ress  on.  So,  remounting  their  donkeys,  the  ladies  rode 
on,  and  we  walked  out  among  the  ruins,  made  more 
ruinous  in  appearance  by  recent  excavations,  and  pass- 
ing through  the  courts,  emerged  on  the  hillside  behind, 
and  struck  across  the  mounds  of  sand  and  rock  to  the 
great  tomb  which  we  designed  visiting. 

The  hills  which  bound  the  plain  on  the  west,  as  I have 
already  had  occasion  to  remark,  are  a honeycomb  of 
tombs.  From  the  very  edge  of  the  water-level  of  the 
plain  to  a point  more  than  a thousand  feet  high,  every 
inch  of  the  rock  is  occupied  by  the  dead  of  ancient  Egypt, 
or  has  been  occupied  until  the  modern  resurrectionists  of 
England,  France,  Germany,  or  Goornou,  broke  the  'slum- 
ber that  was  to  have  been  eternal.  Many  of  these  tombs 
have  been  ojDened.  Myriads  remain  undisturbed.  Un- 
told treasures  lie  buried  here,  and  from  day  to  day  por- 
tions of  them  are  brought  to  light  by  the  Arabs,  who  dig 
in  secret,  and  conceal  what  they  discover  until  a traveler 
presents  himself  ready  to  make  purchases.  But  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  open  tombs 
in  this  hillside.  The  falling  stone  of  a thousand  years, 
and  the  drifting  sands  of  the  desert,  have  changed  the 
form  and  surface  of  the  ground  so  much  that  it  may  re- 
quire weeks  of  excavation  to 'reach  a burial-place,  and  the 
searcher  may  then  find  that  he  has  but  opened  a tomb 
that  was  rifled  ten,  twenty,  or  a thousand  years  before. 
Still  a j)lan  pursued  by  the  French  and  Prussian  expedi- 


A VAST  TOMB. 


353 


tions  has  been  found  very  successful — namely,  to  run  a 
trench  in  a straight  line  for  a considerable  distance.  In 
this  way  they  have  opened  many  curious  tombs.  For  a 
mile  the  earth  is  a succession  of  mounds  heaped  up  by 
excavators,  and  hollows  left  by  them.  Up  hill  and  down, 
therefore,  the  path  is  tiresome  and  difficult,  to  approach 
the  tombs  of  the  Assaseef ; but  at  length  winding  down 
a hillside  into  a basin  that  was  dug  out  by  one  of  the 
great  expeditions,  we  found  ourselves  m a half-acre  hol- 
low, upon  the  side  of  which  opened  a great  tomb,  one  of 
the  most  wonderful  in  Egypt.  The  hollow,  as  I have 
called  it,  was,  in  fact,  the  court  in  front  of  the  tomb,  and 
at  the  western  side  of  this  the  great  entrance  Avas  visible, 
in  the  stately  style  of  old  Egypt.  Through  this  we  could 
see  the  distant  end  of  the  first  corridor,  beyond  Avhich  all 
Avas  blackness.  The  front  was  carved  in  the  usual  style, 
Avith  representations  of  gods  and  men,  and  the  immediate 
entrance  or  doorway  Avas  covered  with  small  hierogly- 
phics, beautifully  cut  in  the  Avhite  stone  of  the  hill,  AAffiich 
Avas  left  for  the  portico. 

'We  had  provided  torches  for  entering,  for  although  I 
desired  as  far  as  possible  to  aA^oid  adding  to  the  smoke 
which  already  blackens  many  of  the  Avails  of  the  formerly 
Avhite  or  elegantly  painted  tombs  of  Thebes,  yet  I kneAv 
that  this,  the  greatest  of  the  private  tombs,  Avas  already 
far  beyond  injury  of  that  sort.  'No  one  knows  at  Avhat 
period  its  silence  Avas  invaded,  or  by  whose  order  the 
mighty  priest  and  prince  wdio  rested  here  Avas  disturbed 
in  his  repose.  In  the  course  of  years,  and  even  of  cen- 
turies, the  Avails  have  become  blackened  throughout  its 
extent  by  torches,  and  by  bats  Avhich  inhabit  it  in 
myriads.  We  could  sometimes  scarcely  advance,  so 
thick  Avere  the  clouds  of  these  animals  that  dashed  in  our 
faces  and  clung  to  us. 

This  vast  tomb  has  been  described  by  so  many  travel- 


354 


DEEP  HALLS. 


ers  that  I shall  not  pause  here  to  relate  our  progress 
through  its  labyrinthine  halls.  The  blackness  of  darkness 
was  reigning  everywhere  throughout  its  extent,  as  it  had 
reigned  for  thousands  of  years,  except  w’hen  broken,  as 
now,  for  a few  moments  by  the  torches  of  travelers  pen- 
etrating with  doubtful  footsteps  the  abodes  of  death. 
That  he  was  a great  man  who  dug  this  tomb  for  his  bones 
there  is  abundance  of  evidence,  since  his  name  is  found 
on  one  of  the  gates  of  the  temple  at  Medeenet  Habou,  as 
its  erector.  But  of  more  than  this — his  name — we  know 
nothing.  He  w^as  a man,  and  he  built  a gateway  to  a tem- 
ple, and  he  needed  a tomb.  He  was  a mortal,  and  he 
believed  in  immortality.  After  all  we  know  considerable 
of  him  in  knowing  that  much.  It  is  not  every  man  that 
leaves  behind  him  enough  for  us  to  know  that  much,  even 
when  he  has  a blazoned  epitaph  over  his  dust. 

But  wliy  he  built  these  vast  halls,  wdiy  these  crossing 
and  recrossing  corridors  and  galleries,  which  cover  an  ex- 
cavated space  of  more  than  twenty-three  thousand  surface 
feet,  it  is  left  for  us  to  guess. 

We  walked  on  in  w^ondering  aw^e,  even  after  we  had 
seen  the  glory  of  Abou  Simbal.  There  is  one  part  of  this 
tomb  which  illustrates  well  the  manner  of  concealment 
adopted  ill  many  sepulchres,  but  Avhich  the  ingenuity  of 
man  has  readily  made  vain. 

After  passing  under  ground  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
left  and  right,  through  various  galleries,  descending  a 
long  flight  of  steps,  and  again  passing  through  long  dark 
corridors,  the  traveler,  pausing  for  a moment  to  glance 
down  a deep  pit  that  falls  into  a grave  hewn  in  the  rock 
forty-five  feet  deep,  shrinks  back  in  horror  from  the  fatal 
edge,  and  turns  to  the  distant  entrance,  glad  to  escape 
the  dark  and  foul  residence  of  birds  of  night  and  death. 
If  he  had  brought  with  him  a coil  of  rope,  and  directed 
his  attendants  to  let  him  down  into  that  pit,  he  would 


ACHMET  AGAIN. 


355 


have  descended  to  the  bottom  of  it,  and  found  it  a simple 
tomb,  and  nothing  more.  Nevertheless,  half  way  down 
its  depth,  if  he  has  kept  his  eyes  open  as  he  descended,  he 
will  have  seen  a doorway,  and  swinging  himself  back  so 
that  he  may  on  the  return  catch  his  foot  on  the  edge,  he 
will  enter  another  j)assage,  and  then  follow  on  through 
stately  chambers  and  corridors,  carved  with  all  the  images 
of  ancient  times  and  the  dark  language  of  the  years  that 
followed  the  flood;  and  he  will  ascend  by  stairs  hewn 
through  the  rock,  to  a point  above  the  chambers  he  first 
examined,  and  so  pass  on  from  room  to  room,  till  he 
grows  weary  with  the  vast  extent  of  this  subterranean 
palace  for  the  dead  dust  of  an  ancient  priest. 

I don’t  know  how  long  we  remained  in  these  halls. 

When  we  emerged,  the  open  air  appeared  beyond  de- 
scription beautiful,  and  we  threw  ourselves  down  on  the 
sand  to  enjoy  its  richness  and  purity.  At  length  the 
servants,  who  had  spread  luncheon  in  the  open  doorway 
of  a smaller  tomb,  announced  that  it  was  ready,  and  we 
sat  down  to  our  chicken  and  claret  with  a zest  that  no 
one  knows  any  thmg  about  who  has  not  spent  two  hours 
under  ground  among  bats  and  mummies. 

Wliile  we  were  eating,  Mr.  R asked  Trumbull  and 

myself  if  we  would  go  with  him  to  a place  not  far  distant 
and  examine  a mummy  which  was  in  ]30ssession  of  an 
Arab,  and  which  he  proposed  to  purchase.  The  ladies 
were  safe  with  our  servants  around  them,  and  we  readily 
consented. 

On  learning  the  name  of  the  Arab  I was  satisfied  that 
we  should  lose  nothing  by  going,  for  it  was  my  old 
friend  Achmet,  whom  I have  several  times  mentioned, 
and  who  is  an  accomplished  resurrectionist  and  a great 
scoundrel.  He  led  us  in  a very  circuitous  manner,  to 
a point  not  far  distant  from  the  tomb  of  the  Assaseef, 
which  we  might  have  reached  by  a path  one  half  shorter. 


85G 


THE  WRONG  MUMMY. 


This  I saw  and  remarked  to  him,  hut  he  muttered  some- 
thing about  an  excavation  to  get  round,  and  I reflected 
on  the  well-knoAvn  and  very  proper  anxiety  of  the  dis- 
coverers of  treasures  to  conceal  them  from  the  govern- 
ment, but  told  him  that  he  would  do  better  to  trust  us 
frankly,  and  not  make  a fool  of  himself  by  attempting  to 
deceive  us.  At  length  he  came  to  a cavernous  opening 
in  the  hill  fronting  the  north-west,  it  being  around  a spur 
of  the  mountain,  hidden  from  the  plain  of  Thebes.  Enter- 
ing this,  and  passing  in  a hundred  feet  or  so,  we  came  to 
a sudden  break  in  the  floor,  and  were  obliged  to  descend 
by  a jump  of  about  eight  feet.  Here  I observed  that  the 
cavern  branched,  and  the  other  branch  led  to  the  right, 
while  we  took  that  to  the  left,  and  commenced  a difficult 
passage  on  our  hands  and  knees,  holding  our  own  candles, 
and  at  length  came  into  a comparatively  open  space, 
where  lay,  in  solemn  silence,  the  mummy  of  an  ancient 
Egyptian.  The  case  was  of  a very  ordinary  kind,  painted 
highly,  but  not  so  as  to  indicate  great  wealth  in  the  de- 
ceased, or  great  value  to  the  mummy.  We  asked  Achmet 
where  he  found  it,  and  he  replied,  “ Here.” 

“ In  this  cavern  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“You  lying  dog !” 

On  the  honor  of  an  Arab  it  was  just  here,  he  protested 
over  and  over  again. 

“ But,”  said  H , “ this  is  not  the  mummy  I was  to 

buy  ?” 

“ O yes,  it  is  !” 

“ O no,  it  isn’t !” 

“ But  it  certainly  is  !” 

“ Then  I won’t  buy  it,  and  there  is  an  end  of  it, 
Achmet.  You  showed  me  a better  mummy  than  that 
the  other  day,  and  if  you  want  me  to  buy  it,  show  it  up 
again.” 


A DISCOVERY. 


357 


While  they  were  talking,  Trumbull  and  I had  ex- 
changed a few  words,  and  were  quietly  working  our  way 
a little  further' along  into  the  cavern.  Achmet  caught 
sight  of  us,  and  began  shouting  that  we  were  at  the  end ; 
there  was  nothing  there ; but  if  we  would  come  with  him 
the  other  way  he  would  show  us  the  real  mummy,  the 
Simon  Pure.  But  the  more  he  shouted  the  more  we 
were  satisfied  there  was  something  to  be  seen  beyond, 
and  having  climbed  a heap  of  fallen  stone,  and  squeezed 
through  an  opening  between  it  and  the  roof  of  the  cav- 
ern, we  found  ourselves  in  another  chamber,  and  in  the 
presence  of  three  more  of  the  departed  Egyptians  of 
Pharaonic  times.*  Here  was  a discovery  ! 

“ O you  fool  of  an  Achmet ! So  you  never  examined 
the  cave  any  further.  These  are  my  mummies,  old  fellow! 
X have  found  them.  You  didn’t  know  they  were  here  ? 
Eh,  Achmet  ?” 

Achmet  looked  sheepish,  and  still  more  so  when  we 
turned  around,  and  raking  down  a heap  of  stone,  showed 
the  sunlight  streaming  across  the  valley  of  Thebes,  and 
pushing  through  the  hole  in  the  wall,  emerged  in  the 
scamp’s  own  hut,  built  on  the  hillside.  He  had  led  us 
this  long  roundabout  way  to  conceal  from  us  the  natural 
and  easy  access  to  the  cavern,  which  was,  in  fact,  the  cel- 
lar of  his  house.  In  case  of  the  presence  of  susj3icious 
characters,  either  in  front  or  rear,  he  could  readily  convey 
his  treasures  to  spots  as  inaccessible  as  those  in  which 
they  had  lain  for  ages. 

There  was  something  hideous,  and  yet  quaint  and 
strange,  in  the  assembly  of  the  old  dead  that  this  Arab 
scamp  had  gathered.  They  lay  side  by  side,  their  cofiins 
staring  on  us  with  those  startling  and'  fixed  smiles  that 
are  always  found  on  the  unmeaning  faces  which  the 
Egyptians  painted  and  carved  over  the  countenances  of 
their  dead,  and  one  was  lying  partly  on  his  side,  with  a 


358 


JEWELS  OF  OLD  TIME. 


cant  toward  the  other  two,  that  seemed  to  intimate  a 
knowledge  of  their  presence,  and  a satisfaction  at  finding 
himself  once  more  in  company. 

But  we  had  not  yet  seen  the  mummy  that  R was 

to  purchase,  and  now  coming  out  of  the  cavern,  and 
going  around  the  end  of  the  hill  to  the  same  place  at 
which  we  had  before  entered  it,  we  followed  Achmet 
again  to  the  jiimping-ofif  place ; but  instead  of  going 
down  this,  he  turned  into  the  other  passage,  and  leading 
us  by  a narrow  ledge  around  the  descent,  entered  a long 
gallery,  which  brought  ns,  after  much  winding  and  creep- 
ing, to  a small  chamber,  in  which  were  two  other  mum- 
mies, one  an  elegant  one  of  Ptolemaic  times,  and  the 
other  one  of  those  plain,  dark  mummies  of  remote  ages, 
that  looked  verily  as  if  it  might  have  been  a companion 
of  the  sons  of  Jacob. 

“Now,”  saith  my  reader,  “what  under  heaven  did  the 
gentleman  want  a mummy  for  ?” 

Very  proper  question.  But  -will  you  step  into  Dr.  Ab- 
bott’s museum  in  New  York  some  day,  and  look  over 
some  curious  jewelry  there.  Witness  a necklace  of  gold 
and  precious  stones,  and  then  let  your  delighted  eye  rest 
on  a gem  of  gold  and  lapis  lazuli,  representing  the  flight 
of  the  soul  to  the  land  of  Osiris,  or  some  similar  idea,  and 
then  examine  the  rings  and  various  charms,  and  trinkets, 
and  stones  carved  into  scarabcei,  and  other  quaint  shapes ; 
and  now  imagine  a case  wherein  lies  a dead  man  of  old 
time,  or  a lady  of  the  court  of  Shishak,  or  the  times  of 
Thothmes  III.,  and  that  upon  unrolling  the  coverings  you 
found  such  a necklace  on  her  neck,  such  a gem  on  the 
breast,  such  rings  on  the  hands,  and  such  charms  here 
and  there  about  the  person.  In  the  brief  phrase  of  mod- 
ern times,  “Would  it  pay?” 

I have  seen  many  ladies  wearing  the  jewelry  of  thirty 
centuries  ago.  Indeed  there  is  at  present  a great  passion 


PRIVATE  TOMBS. 


359 


among  the  ladies  resident  or  traveling  in  the  East  to  be- 
come possessed  of  such  treasures,  and  hence  the  price  at 
which  the  Arabs  sell  them  is  enormous. 

Still,  aside  from  all  this,  there  is  a great  interest  in  ex- 
amining the  mummy  of  an  ancient  Egyptian,  independent 
of  his  ornaments,  and  it  is  no  Avaste  of  time  or  money  to 
open  a case  and  unroll  the  sleeper. 

We  came  out  as  we  had  gone  in,  and  returned  to  the 
Assaseef,  where  the  ladies  were  seated  in  the  jDorch  of 
the  great  tomb,  waiting  patiently  for  us. 

We  had  yet  a long  day’s  tramp  before  us  ; for  we  de- 
signed visiting  a number  of  the  private  tombs  which  have 
been  opened  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  hundreds  of 
which  are  of  the  utmost  interest. 

This  is,  in  fact,  the  grand  source  of  our  knowledge  of 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  ancient  Egyptians.  In 
burying  their  dead  they  were  not  only  accustomed  to 
place  in  the  tombs  many  of  the  utensils  of  ordinary  life, 
the  work-basket  of  the  lady  as  well  as  the  sword  of  the 
soldier,  but  they  took  care  to  paint  on  the  walls  of  the 
tomb  all  the  prominent  events  in  the  life  of  the  deceased, 
and  oftentimes  all  the  paraphernalia  of  his  daily  living. 

On  another  day  we  made  an  examination  of  one  of 
these  tombs,  that  'which  is  now  known  as  hTo.  35,  which 
I may  describe  as  an  example.  This  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  of  any  of  the  tombs,  and  'W’ere  it  possible  for 
me  here  to  give  a reduced  copy  of  the  paintings  on  its 
w'alls,  I should  be  able,  without  a word  of  explanation,  to 
describe  to  the  reader  a vast  portion  of  the  public  and 
private  manners  and  customs  of  the  ancient  Egyptians. 

The  shape  of  the  tombs  is  almost  invariable.  The 
outer  door  opens  into  a sort  of  cross  hall  or  chamber 
running  to  the  right  and  left,  while  a deep  passage  or 
chamber  penetrates  the  hill  itself.  Of  course  all  is  dark- 
ness within,  and  the  visitor  is  compelled  to  make  his  ex- 


360 


PRIVATE  TOMBS. 


aminatioiis  by  candle  light.  If  he  uses  torches  it  is  at 
the  risk  of  blackening  the  wall,  and  defacing  these  very 
curious  memorials.  But  this  is  already  almost  accom- 
plished. The  most  of  the  tombs  which  are  interesting 
have  been  seized  on  by  the  natives  as  cellars,  and  their 
mud  huts  are  built  in  front  of  them,  so  that  it  is  some- 
times difiicult  to  obtain  admittance.  IS"o.  35  is  of  this 
class,  and  we  found  it  piled  half  full  of  doura  (corn- 
stalks), and  inhabited  by  colonies  of  fleas.  Nevertheless 
we  devoted  ourselves  to  its  examination  carefully. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  painted  groups  in  Egypt 
occurs  on  the  wall  of  this  tomb,  an  extract  from  which 
the  reader  will  remember  that  I gave  in  a former  chapter 
when  Avriting  on  the  subject  of  brick-making,  and  the 
illustration  there  given  Avill  show  the  style  of  representa- 
tion in  this  and  other  tombs.  Conjecture,  of  course,  has 
not  been  sIoav  to  suppose  that  these  men,  who  are  ret^re- 
sented  as  making  brick  under  the  lash  of  masters,  are  the 
children  of  Jacob.  I before  remarked  on  the  reasons 
for  denying  this  supposition.  But  the  date  of  the  tomb 
is  not  far  from  the  period  of  the  captivity,  being  in  the 
reign  of  Thothmes  III.,  Avhom  Ave  suppose  to  be  the  Pha- 
raoh of  the  Exodus. 

In  the  flrst  chamber,  the  transept,  is  found  a procession 
of  princes  of  foreign  nations  bringing  tribute  to  the  king. 
Some  are  black,  some  red,  some  white ; some  have  long, 
and  others  short  hair.  The  dresses  vary,  as  does  the  na- 
ture of  their  presents.  One  party  bring  leopard  skins 
and  monkeys,  ivory,  ostrich  eggs,  gold  rings,  a girafie, 
and  various  other  Ethiopian  products.  A second  group 
have  an  elephant,  a bear,  a chariot,  and  long  gloves, 
which  indicate  a more  northern  residence.  Still  a third 
and  a fourth  line  of  men  and  Avomen  appear  AAuth  ostrich 
eggs  and  feathers,  gold  and  silver  cups,  ebony  and  ivory, 
bags  of  jeAvels,  vases  of  precious  metals  and  porcelain, 


JEVrEL  FOR  THE  BREAST. 


8G1 


and  a hundred  other  objects  which  have  long  afforded 
subjects  of  study  to  the  scholar  and  antiquarian. 

The  inner  chamber,  which  is  the  long  hall  I have 
spoken  of,  contains  various  subjects  illustrating  the  pri- 
vate life  of  the  proprietor  of  the  tomb,  who,  from  the 
subjects  in  the  outer  room,  we  may  conjecture  was  a per- 
son high  in  authority  under  the  king. 

Here  are  represented  the  daily  occurrences  of  life,  and 
all  the  artisans  that  he  had  occasion  to  employ  are  here 
pictured  in  their  various  labors.  Carpenters  at  work, 
rope-makers  tvristing  their  cords,  sculptors  busy  on  a 
sphinx  which  they  are  finishing,  as  well  as  two  colossal 
statues  of  the  king. 

The  minuteness  with  which  scenes  in  daily  life — in  the 
house,  in  the  garden,  and  in  the  chase — are  here  repre- 
sented, enables  us  to  see  the  life  of  the  Egyptians  as  if  it 
were  furnished  for  the  express  purpose  of  illustrating 
volumes  on  the  subject,  and  indeed  the  illustrations  are 
ample  in  themselves  without  the  aid  of  description.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  tombs  near  this,  and  of  hundreds 
which  lie  open  every  where  among  these  hills. 


16 


3 


Il}e  ^filqecg  of  jl)e  ScfiS. 

Stkangers  to  Egyptian-antiquities  are  surprised  at  the 
freedom  with  which  scholars  speak  of  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  men  of  three  thousand  years  ago.  But  a 
visit  to  Egypt  removes  all  surprise.  Old  Egypt  is  still 
here.  The  tombs  opened  are  a resurrection  of  the  ancient 
times.  The  paintings  are  sufficiently  minute  to  exhibit 
life  in  all  its  aspects,  and  the  articles  discovered  in  the 
tombs  are  themselves  precisely  the  articles  that  did  duty 
in  the  long-gone  centuries. 

That  some  of  these  antiques  are  manufactured,  is  well 
known  ; but  no  one  familiar  with  them  can  be  imposed  on. 

I was  seated  at  my  table  in  the  cabin  of  the  Phantom^ 
one  evening,  Trumbull  and  Amy  having  gone  by  moon- 
light to  Karnak,  and  Miriam  being  on  one  of  the  other 
boats  making  a call.  Having  a considerable  amount  of 
writing  to  do,  I had  not  gone  out  into  the  tent  as  we 
usually  did,  and  the  ordinary  evening  assembly  that  we 
had  there  was  not  gathered.  In  the  afternoon  a steamer 
had  arrived  from  Cairo,  but  instead  of  landing  at  Luxor, 
it  had  stopped  two  miles  below,  on  the  western  side  of 
the  river,  and  we  had  no  idea  who  was  on  board  of  her. 
I had  dispatched  Abd-el-Atti,  in  the  evening,  to  ascertain 
what  she  was,  and  was  hoping  for  news  from  civilization, 
when  two  gentlemen  were  announced  by  Ferrajj,  and  en- 
tered the  cabin. 


UNEXPECTED  MEETING. 


363 


“We  saw  an  American  flag  on  yonr  boat,  this  after- 
noon, and  judging  that  we  should  find  fellow-countrymen 
here,  have  taken  the  liberty  of  calling.” 

“ I am  delighted  to  see  you.  My  name  is  Prime,  and 
I am  from  New  York.” 

“ Is  it  possible  ? and  mine  is  Righter,  from  Constanti- 
nople.” 

It  was  no  less  a surprise  to  me.  He  was  the  oriental 
traveling  companion  of  my  brother  two  years  before,  and 
had  returned  to  Constantinople,  where  he  now  resides ; 
but  had  come  to  Egypt,  and  finding  a party  made  up  for 
a swift  trip  up  the  Nile  on  a steamer,  he  had  joined  it. 
He  knew  that  I was  in  the  East,  but  had  no  idea  of  find- 
ing me  here.  His  companion  was  a reverend  gentleman 
from  Illinois,  and  the  two  were  as  welcome  visitors  as  one 
might  hope  to  receive  of  a winter  night  in  Egypt. 

Ibrahim,  the  old  Copt,  v/hom  I have  before  spoken  of 
as  the  chief  manufacturer  and  vendor  of  modern  aniiqiies^ 
had  repeatedly  urged  us 'to  visit  his  laboratory.  He  had 
long  ago  become  sufficiently  well  acquainted  with  me  to 
know  that  I was  past  hoaxing,  and  he  then  became 
confidential,  and  frankly  let  me  into  the  secrets  of  ms 
trade.  I took  this  opportunity  to  accept  his  invitation, 
and  all  our  party  having  returned,  we  made  a sally  in  the 
moonlight  to  the  village  and  the  house  of  Ibrahim.  Pass- 
ing  through  the  narrow  and  silent  streets,  we  entered  a 
dark  passage  into  the  mud  walls,  and  going  to  the  rear 
of  his  house,  mounted  a crazy  flight  of  steps  and  entered 
his  sanctum. 

It  was  a queer  hole,  not  unlike  the  rooms  of  antiqua- 
rians that  I have  seen  in  America.  Masses  of  stufi*,  broken 
coffin-boards,  and  mummy-cloths,  lay  piled  in  heaps 
around,  while  on  shelves,  and  tables,  and  chairs,  were  the 
relics  of  ancient  Egypt.  The  old  fellow  frankly  confessed 
that  nine-tenths  of  all  that  we  saw  was  modern  Arab 


364 


STRANGE  DISCOVERY. 


manufacture,  and  the  ingenuity  of  the  laborers  is  deserv- 
ing of  all  praise.  The  astonishment  of  my  friends  was 
increased  fourfold  when  they  recognized  numbers  of  arti- 
cles which,  they  said,  had  been  oifered  for  sale  at  the 
steamer  that  same  afternoon,  facsimiles  of  which  had 
been  purchased  at  enormous  prices  by  travelers  in  their 
company.  One  article,  in  particular,  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  one  of  the  gentlemen.  He  had  been  bargaining 
with  an  Arab  for  one  precisely  like  it,  and  an  Englishman 
had  bought  it  before  his  eyes  at  the  native’s  price,  whereat 
my  friend  had  been  decidedly  and  justly  offended.  He 
now  saw  its  counterpart  lying  here,  and  asked  Ibrahim 
if  that  were  modern  ? The  feUow  took  out  a box  and 
showed  him  a dozen  precisely  like  it.  “ It’s  a favorite, 
and  sells  well,”  said  he.  It  was  a beautiful  thing ; and 
Avhen  I asked  for  the  original  from  which  the  copy  was 
made,  he  produced  it  from  a secret  jdace,  and  asked  me 
ten  pounds  for  it.  It  was  but  a piece  of  stone,  four  inches 
by  five,  with  a figure  m relief  on  one  side. 

By  far  the  most  remarkable  discovery  of  the  past  year 
in  this  neighborhood  has  been  a sort  of  undertaker’s  shop. 
Some  Arabs,  digging  as  usual  in  the  night,  opened  what 
appeared  to  be  a tomb,  but  on  entering  it,  the  contents 
were  as  astonishing  to  them  as  they  have  since  been  to 
antiquarians,  being  neither  more  nor  less  than  cases  con- 
taining some  two  thousand  mummy  shawls.  The  reader 
is,  of  course,  aware  that  the  mummy  of  an  ancient  Egyp- 
tian was  rolled  in  long  pieces  of  cloth,  of  which  we  find 
from  twenty  to  thirty  yards  on  one  mummy,  and  often 
much  more.  These  strips  were  cut  and  torn  to  suit  the 
shape  of  the  body,  and  were  laid  on  with  a skill  of  band- 
aging which  modern  surgeons  are  accustomed  to  envy. 
When  this  was  complete,  the  mummy  was  wrapped  in 
shawls  of  more  or  less  expensive  character,  the  cloth  being 
fine  linen,  sometimes  ornamented  with  beads,  while  a 


MUMMIES  IN  WRONG  BOXES. 


3G5 


very  common  form  was  a shawl  made  entirely  of  earthen 
beads  strung  on  thread,  and  worked  in  graceful  figures. 
Such  shawls  I found  on  two  mummies  which  I unrolled 
at  different  times. 

These  shawls  were  all  of  linen,  varying  in  fineness,  and 
this  was  evidently  a dej^ot  or  shop  for  the  sale  of  them, 
being  situated  near  the  great  burial-place,  and  doubtless 
near  the  mummying  establishments;  for  the  Egyptians 
did  not  mummy  their  own  dead,  but  sent  them  to  the 
undertaker’s,  where  they  were  kept  for  from  twenty  to 
fifty  days,  and  then  returned  in  the  shape  of  a roll  of 
cloth,  with  head  and  feet  alike  enveloped  and  unrecog- 
nizable. This  custom  accounts  for  the  fact  that  we  not 
infrequently  find  the  mummies  of  males  in  cofiins  elabor- 
ately ornamented  with  the  hieroglyphical  descriptions  of 
females,  and,  vice  versa^  females  in  the  cases  which  should 
contain  males.  It  would  be  very  curious  if,  in  the  great 
establishments,  where  hundreds  of  dead  were  brought 
weekly  for  embalming,  there  were  not  such  mistakes  con- 
stantly occurring ; and  hence  the  error  of  Mr.  Gliddon, 
which  caused  so  much  amusement  in  Boston  a few  years 
since,  was  not  owing  to  his  having  mistaken  the  legends 
on  the  coffin,  nor  should  it  at  all  detract  from  his  deserved 
reputation  as  an  Egyptian  scholar. 

I procured  some  twenty  of  these  shawls.  The  one 
W’hich  lies  before  me  as  I now  write  is,  like  the  rest,  about 
three  yards  in  length  by  one  in  width,  made  of  the  finest 
linen,  with  a fringe  surrounding  it ; and  the  most  curious 
circumstance  in  connection  with  it  is  that  each  shawl  has 
a price-mark  on  the  corner.  Incredulous  persons,  given 
to  denying  that  the  objects  which  we  find  can  possibly  be 
antiquities,  and  asserting  the  incredibility  of  tlie  idea  that 
these  shawls  have  been  lying  two  thousand  years  under 
ground,  say,  on  seeing  them,  “ You  have  been  sold  ; these 
are  modern,  and  made  for  the  Egyptian  antiquarian  mar- 


366 


MUMMY  SHAWLS. 


ket.”  The  same  thing  I have  heard  such  persons  assert 
a hundred  times  in  the  collection  in  Xew  York,  on  look- 
ing at  its  wonderful  specimens.  The  only  and  the  com- 
plete answer  to  such  persons  is  this  : “I  bought  the  twenty 
shawls  for  three  piastres  each,  being  about  three  dollars 
for  the  whole.”  A friend  of  mine,  who  is  a large  dealer 
in,-  and  a manufacturer  of  Irish  linens,  has  examined  what 
I have  left  of  the  twenty,  and  informs  me  that  no  factory 
in  the  world  could  make  the  articles  for  less  than  one  dol- 
lar and  seventy-five  cents  each,  first  cost  from  the  factory, 
for  each  shawl,  or  thirty-five  dollars  for  the  lot,  which  cost 
me  three.  The  Arab,  therefore,  who  attempted  to  sell 
us  made  a poor  speculation  of  it.  But  the  character  and 
quality  of  the  articles  determines  their  antiquity ; and 
having  unrolled  some  dozens  of  mummies,  and  become 
familiar  with  their  clothing,  I do  not  think  I could  be 
deceived  in  purchasing  mummy  cloth  by  even  a Yankee 
speculator. 

The  western  hills,  to  which  I have  so  often  referred,  the 
reader  need  not  be  informed  are  the  eastern  boundary  of 
the  great  desert  of  Sahara.  They  are  themselves  totally 
destitute  of  vegetation.  Xot  a blade  of  grass,  not  a 
weed,  or  wild-flower,  finds  root  on  their  rugged  sides  or 
summits.  They  are  barren  rock,  whose  crumbling  debris 
lies  heaped  in  the  hollows,  at  the  foot  of  their  precipitous 
sides,  and  are  the  fitting  barrier  between  civilization  and 
the  wastes  of  the  Libyan  plains. 

Irregular  in  shape,  and  broken  into  numerous  hills, 
whose  height  varies  from  one  to  three  thousand  feet,  they, 
have  among  them  numerous  ravines  and  deep  gorges, 
whose  desolation  surpasses  the  conception  of  man,  and 
far  exceeds  the  power  of  the  pencil. 

One  of  these  enters  the  hills,  at  a point  not  far  north 
of  Goornou,  and  penetrates  several  miles,  scarcely  ascend- 
ing from  the  level  of  the  plain  of  Thebes.  The  hills  on 


KINGLY  SLUMBER. 


367 


each  side  of  this  narrow  gorge  hang  in  frowning  crags 
above  the  adventurer  who  enters  its  gloomy  recesses. 
The  sunshine  has  a sombre,  solemn  appearance  as  it  falls 
quietly  into  the  silent  depths.  Here  and  there  a solitary 
vulture  sits  like  a resident  demon  eyeing  the  approaching 
stranger ; and  he  is  not  surprised  when  he  reaches  the 
ends — for  it  branches  into  several  ravines — to  find  that 
the  kings  of  old  Egypt  selected  this  gloomy  retreat  for 
their  burial-places,  where,  in  stately  halls,  dug  deep  into 
the  heart  of  the  mountain,  they  should  sleep  in  kingly 
slumber. 

I say  in  kingly  slumber  ; for,  though  the  dead  dust  of 
a king  was  in  no  respect  difierent  from  the  dust  of  his 
meanest  subject,  and  though  his  sleep  was  no  more  or 
less  deep  and  profound,  yet  it  was  something  to  be  laid  in 
a granite  sarcophagus  in  the  centre  of  a vast  hall,  and  to 
lie  surrounded  by  household  servants,  guards,  and  retain- 
ers, all  ready  to  spring  to  life  when  one  should  call  whose 
voice  should  be  loud  enough  to  penetrate  these  deep  cav- 
erns. The  queens  lie  elsewhere,  in  a valley  by  them- 
selves ; or  rather  there  they  did  lie,  and  there  are  now 
their  vacant  tombs. 

The  tombs  of  the  kings,  of  which  seventeen  are  now 
known  and  open  to  visitors,  have  long  been  celebrated  as 
among  the  chief  wonders  of  the  ancient  world.  Many  of 
them  were  open,  and  had  been  robbed  of  their  dead  two 
thousand  years  ago  ; and  the  writers  of  that  period  have 
given  us  descriptions  that  indicate  which  ones  they  knew 
and  had  visited.  Others  have  been  discovered  in  later 
periods,  and  some  quite  recently. 

AYe  made  an  early  start  in  the  morning  for  our  first 
visit,  and  having  crossed  the  river,  mounted  donkeys  at 
the  shore,  and  rode  to  the  temple  at  Goornou,  which-  we 
examined,  and  then  went  on  up  the  valley  of  the  tombs. 
It  had  been  my  desire  to  make  an  excavation  here  over 


368 


BELZONI’S  TOMB. 


a point  wliicli  I had  fixed  on  in  my  mind  (having  never 
yet  seen  the  j)lace),  where  I was  confident  of  discovering 
an  unopened  tomb.  Sheik  Ilassan  of  Goornoii  accompa- 
nied me  for  the  purpose  of  taking  my  orders  on  this 
subject;  but  the  day  proved  too  short  for  even  the  cur- 
sory examination  I desired  to  make,  and  I was  obliged 
to  put  off  my  excavations  to  another  time. 

Without  wearying  the  reader  with  tiresome  descrip- 
tion, I may  be  pardoned  if  I devote  a brief  space  to  the 
great  tomb,  ISTo.  17,  commonly  called  Belzoni’s,  because 
discovered  by  him,  and  ISTo.  11,  or  Beuce’s. 

The  descent  into  this  tomb  is  more  rapid  and  sudden 
than  into  the  others.  A long,  gradual  slope  of  some  hun- 
dred feet  usually  leads  the  visitor  slowly  downward.  But 
here  he  descends  twenty-four  feet  by  a very  abrupt  stair- 
case, and  finds  himself  in  a passage  or  gallery,  eighteen 
feet  in  width,  down  which  he  proceeds  between  walls 
gorgeously  painted  and  sculptured,  until  he  reaches  a 
second  staircase,  and  again  descends  twenty  feet,  or 
thereabouts,  and  continuing  onward  through  two  door- 
ways and  intermediate  halls,  enters  a chamber  in  which 
Belzoni  found  a deep  ]oit,  and  the  apparent  end  of  the 
tomb.  This  pit  was  designed  to  deceive  invaders.  Bel- 
zoni filled  it  up  and  tried  the  wall  beyond  it.  With  a 
palm-tree  battering-ram  he  burst  his  way  through  into  a 
hall  of  almost  fabulous  splendor,  and  pursued  his  way  to 
a second  and  almost  precisely  similar  room,  down  yet 
another  staircase,  through  two  passages  and  a smaller 
chamber  into  the  grand  hall,  a room  about  twenty-seven 
feet  square,  supported  by  six  pillars,  in  the  centre  of 
W’hich  he  found  an  alabastar  sarcophagus.  This  appeared 
to  stand  on  a solid  rock  floor,  but  experiment  showed 
that  .the  floor  behind  the  sarcophagus  was  hollow,  and 
when  this  was  broken  up,  the  sarcophagus  was  standing 
on  the  summit  of  an  inclined  plane,  which  descended 


BRUCE’S  TOMB. 


369 


more  than  a hundred  and  fifty  feet  further  into  the  moun- 
tain, with  a staircase  on  each  side  of  it.  The  crumbling 
rock  filled  up  its  extremity,  and  how  much  further  it  led, 
or  what  lay  beyond,  is  left  to  imagination. 

From  commencement  to  end,  this  great  cavern  is  orna- 
mented with  sculpture  and  painting,  and  the  remark  is 
literally  true,  which  has  been  so  often  repeated,  that  the 
colors  have  the  freshness  of  yesterday.  They  appear  like 
newly  finished  and  varnished  paintings.  Of  the  subjects 
of  many  of  these  paintings  I have  already  repeatedly 
spoken  in  connection  with  private  tombs,  wdiile  the  larg- 
est and  most  numerous  class  have  reference  to  the  sup- 
posed future  history  of  the  soul  of  the  deceased  monarch. 
The  entire  length  of  this  tomb  is  four  hundred  and  five 
feet,  and  the  descent  from  the  entrance  to  the  lowest 
2)oint  is  ninety  feet. 

The  tomb  No.  11  is  known  generally  as  Bruce’s  tomb, 
and  not  quite  so  frequently  as  the  Harper’s  tomb. 

The  first  name  it  received  from  the  fact  that  the  lament- 
ed Bruce,  on  his  return  from  Egyptian  travel,  published 
an  account  of  this  tomb,  and  described  the  splendid  paint- 
ings he  had  seen  in  it,  and  was  laughed  at  as  an  egregious 
liar  by  the  entire  literary  and  scientific  wmiid. 

The  other  name  is  derived  from  the  painting  of  the 
■harpers  on  one  of  the  chambers  which  Bruce  described. 

This  tomb  is  supposed  to  be  that  of  the  third  Remeses, 
but  other  royal  names  occur  in  its  sculptures.  Its  length 
is  the  same  as  Belzoni’s,  but  the  descent  is  only  thirty- 
one  feet.  The  entrance  passage  is  remarkable  for  a series 
of  small  chambers  opening  out  on  each  side  of  it,  which  seem 
to  have  been  designed  as  sepulchres  of  the  royal  caterers 
and  servants.  In  the  first  on  the  left  wm  find  the  royal 
kitchen  represented  on  the  w^alls,  W’here  men  are  killing, 
preparing,  and  cooking  meats,  kneading  bread  and  going 
through  the  countless  employments  of  an  ancient  kitchen. 

16* 


A STIFF  BREEZE. 


S10 

Many  of  the  scenes  are  very  curious.  In  the  room  di- 
rectly opposite  to  this  are  boats  with  various  shaped 
cabins  and  sails.  The  next  chamber  is  covered  with 
representations  of  arms  and  armor,  and  the  succeeding 
room  has  elegant  chairs,  j^ainted  and  gilded  in  royal 
style. 

These  are  among  the  most  beautiful  existing  evidences 
of  the  style  and  splendor  of  royal  furniture  in  days  so 
long  gone.  Beyond  these  rooms  are  others  on  both  sides, 
and  in  the  last  on  the  left  are  the  two  harpers,  one  of 
whom  at  least  was  blind. 

This  tomb  has  afforded  us  great  information  on  the 
subject  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  ancient  Egyp- 
tians, as  the  reader  may  gather  from  the  subjects  deline- 
ated in  these  chambers. 

The  shades  of  evening  were  gathering  in  the  outer 
world  while  we  were  still  treading  these  dark  passages  in 
the  mountain  ; and  we  were  now  warned  that  if  we  did 
not  hasten,  darkness  would  overtake  us  long  before  we 
had  extricated  ourselves  from  the  gloomy  ravine.  We 
had  several  miles  to  go  before  reaching  the  river,  and 
having  directed  our  small  boat  to  meet  us  at  Goornou, 
we  had  still  four  miles  of  sailing  on  the  Kile  to  reach  our 
own  boat. 

Although  we  made  swift  progress  toward  the  shore,  it 
was  profoundly  dark  when  we  reached  it ; and  here  we 
found  the  boat.  It  was  blowing  a_  fierce  gale  of  wind 
from  the  northward;  and  having  packed  ourselves  into 
the  boat,  and  wrapped  shawls  closely  around  the  ladies, 
we  were  ready  to  be  away.  I was  unwilling  to  trust  the 
best  Arab  boatman  with  the  precious  freight  we  had  on 
board.  I took  the  sheets  into  my  own  hands,  and  she 
sprang  away  before  the  desert  wind  like  a bird. 

I never  saw  a boat  fly  more  swiftly.  The  little  lateen 
tail  swayed  forward  at  first,  and  then  held  a steady, 


MY  FRIEND  WHITELY. 


371 


strong  full,  and  she  'went  over  the  T\*ater  as  if  she  knew 
in  'svhat  haste  "we  'were  to  he  at  home. 

But  it  was  no  common  gale.  The  wind  was  out  in  his 
wrath,  and  the  desert  storm  came  down  on  the  river. 
My  eyes  were  blinded  with  the  sharp,  swift  sand,  and 
I could  with  difficulty  see  the  lights  at  Luxor,  toward 
which  we  were  flying.  The  current  in  the  river  was 
stronger  as  we  approached,  and,  being  against  the  wind, 
caused  a heavy  swell,  into  which  the  boat  plunged  with 
a will ; but  though  the  foam  fleAV  high,  we  held  on  to- 
ward the  lights,  and  as  we  ^^assed  the  first  boat  lying  at 
the  beach,  we  were  greeted  with  loud  shouts,  that  passed 
along  the  line  of  boats  as  we  rounded  the  point  and  ran 
up  alongside  of  the  Phantom.  Every  one  had  been 
alarmed  on  our  account,  and  a bright  look-out  was  kept 
for  our  appearance. 

After  we  had  dined  we  held  a levee  in  the  tent.  Hajji 
Mohammed  made  capital  cofiee;  and  no  boat  was  in  our 
neighborhood  for  a day  without  finding  it  out.  Every 
evening  the  tent  was  full,  and  cofiee  and  chibouks  cir- 
culated till  midnight.  That  evening  I well  remember 
with  especial  satisfaction.  There  were  some  cards  on  the 
table  when  we  reached  the  boat,  names,  none  of  which 
we  recognized,  but  which,  being  American,  were  received 
most  gladly.  In  the  evening,  when  the  tent  began  to  be 
filled  with  visitors,  the  canvas  was  thrown  up,  and  three 
gentlemen  came  in,  one  of  whom  the  reader  will  hear 
much  of  if  he  follow  me  into  Holy  Land. 

He  was  a tall,  well-formed  man,  young,  broad-shouldered 
and  exceeding  stout  in  his  build,  who  looked  like  just  the 
man  to  select  for  a companion  in  a tussle  with  Arabs  or 
any  other  evil  meaners.  I little  thought  then  how  many 
miles  we  should  ride  together  over  hill  and  plain,  how 
many  nights  we  should  sleep  together  on  the  starry  plains 
of  Holy  Land. 


35 


c 


ife  Slecpg  diicll. 

We  had  been  at  Luxor  for  a week  or  ten  days,  and 
again  we  were  \vithout  company.  All  the  boats  which 
had  been  with  us  had  gone  on  up  the  river,  and  no  otliers 
had  arrived ; so  that  we  were  lying  alone,  with  the  ex- 
ception'of  a freight-boat  which  had  met  with  some  acci- 
dent, and  discharged  her  cargo  on  the  shore  while  she 
was  repairing. 

The  day  had  been  one  of  hard  labor,  but  I can  not  now 
say  what  that  labor  was.  I only  remember  that  Trumbull 
lay  at  full  length  on  the  diwan  on  the  one  side  of  the  boat, 
and  Amy  on  the  other  end  of  the  same,  while  Miriam  and 
myself  occupied  the  other  side ; for  the  diwans  were  thir- 
teen feet  in  length,  so  that  there  was  just  room  for  four 
of  us.  Derry ^ the  monkey  that  Abdul  Rahman  had  given 
us  at  Derr,  whence  his  name,  was  sitting  on  his  cage  with 
one  eye  shut,  dreaming  of  new  mischief;  and  I was 
smoking  my  chibouk  in  perfect  kief ; while  in  the  cloud 
of  smoke  I saw  those  visions  of  beloved  forms  that  follow 
the  wanderer  forever ; and  I was  hearing  those  musical 
voices  that  he  hears  over  mountains  and  plains,  over 
sands  and  seas,  those  voices  that  earth  is  not  broad 
enough  to  prevent  his  liearing,  heaven  not  so  far  away 
from  the  poorest  sinner  of  us  all  but  that  they  reach  him 
from  its  radiant  homes. 

It  was  ten  o’clock — had  there  been  a clock  there  to 


CABIN  OF  THE  PHANTOM. 


3T3 


mark  it — and  all  was  profoundly  silent  on  river  and  idain, 
except  the  melancholy,  but  sharp  quick  bark  of  the 
jackals,  seeking  their  food  between  Karnak  and  Luxor. 
The  appearance  of  that  cabin  is  vividly  before  me  now. 
Entering  it  from  the  deck,  there  was  a diwan  on  each  side 
and  a round  table  in  the  centre,  while  opposite  to  the 
front  door  w^as  the  curtained  doorway  that  led  to  the 
sleeping-rooms.  On  each  side  of  this  last  doorway  was  a 
mirror,  and  a shelf  containing  a drawer.  Over  the  diwans 
were  the  windows,  live  on  each  side,  and  at  the  right  and 
left  of  the  front  door  were  glass-covered  shelves  contain- 
ing the  table  silver  and  furniture.  Over  the  windows  and 
on  the  various  shelves  W'ere  placed  our  arms  and  ammu- 
nition— four  fowling-pieces,  three  revolvers,  and  one  re- 
peater, ready  to  be  seized  and  used  in  an  instant,  were 
there  any  occasion  for  it.  The  diwaiis  were  covered  with 
soft  cushions,  the  windows  curtained  with  crimson,  and 
similar  curtains  hung  over  the  b’ont  and  rear  doorways, 
so  that  in  the  evening  our  room  had  the  appearance  of 
perfect  comfort  and  retirement.  A more  delightful  ar- 
rangement could  not  be  made ; and  when  within  such  a 
room  you  place  four  persons  so  closely  attached  to  each 
other  as  we  four  were,  and  as  familiar  with  the  antiqui- 
ties we  were  searching  out  as  Trumbull  and  I had  en- 
deavored to  make  ourselves,  you  can  not  doubt  that  we 
had  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  traveling  on  the  Nile,  and 
a fair  prospect  of  enjoying  our  life  so  long  as  the  voyage 
should  continue. 

But  there  was  a sad  interlude  to  this  perfect  luxury, 
which  for  awhile  forbade  our  enjoyment  of  it.  Other 
travelers  were  not  so  comfortable  as  we,  and  close  at 
Iiand  was  one  who  was  even  then  fast  passing,  in  pain  and 
agony,  into  the  silent  land  beyond  the  deep  river. 

Ferrajj’s  black  countenance  was  visible  as  he  put  his 
head  in  by  the  door  curtain — 


374 


mustapha’s  house. 


“ Miistaplia  Aga  has  sent  down  to  say  that  the  English 
gentleman  in  his  house  is  very  sick,  and  he  wishes  you 
would  come  up  and  see  him.” 

Mustapha  is  a nobleman — not  by  any  writ  or  grant,  for 
aga  is  the  lowest  title  known  to  oriental  society,  meaning 
about  as  much  as  esquire  does  in  our  country — but  he  de- 
serves rank  among  the  highest,  and  his  position  as  English 
and  American  consular  agent  at  Luxor  enables  him  to 
take  it — and  he  is  a nobleman  of  the  heart,  and  a good 
fellow  in  every  sense  of  the  phrase. 

I have  before  mentioned  the  visit  at  our  tent  of  Mr. 
Tonge,  the  young  Enghsh  artist  wdio  was  passing  the  win- 
ter at  Luxor.  He  was  about  thirty  years  of  age,  and  one 
of  the  finest  looking  men  that  I have  known.  His  face  was 
one  of  high  intellectual  appearance,  his  eye  black  and 
keen,  and  quick  as  starlight.  He  wore  a dark  beard  and 
mustache  curling  over  a well-shaj^ed  mouth,  while  his  thin 
hair  was  brushed  back  from  a high  broad  white  forehead. 
He  was  ill  when  last  in  the  tent,  and  he  had  talked  some- 
what despondingly  of  his  condition ; but  none  of  us  im- 
agined that  he  was  very  ill,  nor  do  I think  he  did  so  him- 
self. Tlie  next  day  I saw  him  sketching  near  the  great 
temple  of  Luxor,  or  rather  he  was  giving  some  final 
touches  to  a water-color  drawing  of  that  temple,  within 
the  ruins  of  which  Mustapha’s  house  was  situated. 

Mustapha  has  the  grandest  front  to  his  house  of  any 
man,  private  or  public,  in  the  world.  It  is  not  much  of  a 
house  ; something  of  a pile  of  mud,  but  clean  and  white- 
washed within,  consisting  of  five  or  six  rooms,  all  on  one 
floor,  around  an  open  court  in  which  he  has  some  few 
trees  and  shrubs.  But  he  has  selected  for  the  location  of 
his  house  the  interior  of  the  grand  court  of  the  temple, 
and  the  doorway  is  between  two  of  the  large  columns, 
while  the  huge  architrave  towers  above  it.  The  contrast 
is  somewhat  severe  on  a near  approach,  but  from  a little 


MUSTAPHA’S  WINE. 


375 


distance  in  front  yon  may  see,  any  fine  morning  or  even- 
ing, Mustaplia  quietly  smoking  his  chibouk  on  his  front 
steps,  surrounded  usually  by  a half  dozen  of  his  neighbors 
and  friends,  and  the  profound  silence,  the  magnificent 
columns,  the  curling  smoke,  and  the  strange  oriental 
dresses  make  a picture  that  an  artist  would  love  to  sketch, 
but  which,  once  painted,  a person  unused  to  such  scenes 
would  pronounce  a fanciful  mixture,  not  like  any  reality 
in  the  world. 

Mustapha  is  a Mussulman,  but  although  he  drinks  no 
wine  himself  he  is  amply  supplied  with  abundance,  and  he 
can  give  you  a bottle  of  nominal  Johannisberg,  or  spark- 
ling St.  Peray,  that  will  go  to  your  heart  in  old  Egypt, 
nor  is  it  impossible  that  he  may  furnish  you  with  moun- 
' tain  dew  that  will  make  you  able  to  see  Pharaohs  with, 
out  number  on  the  plain  of  Luxor  that  slopes  down  from 
his  grand  portico  to  the  water’s  edge ; for  every  trav- 
eler who  touches  at  Luxor  experiences  his  kindness,  and 
he  is  invaluable  in  his  capacity  of  American  and  English 
agent.  Some  time  since  he  was  removed  from  office  by 
the  English  consul,  and  his  rivals  and  enemies  sent  him 
down  to  Cairo  in  chains  to  answer  sundry  charges,  which 
he  did  successfully.  Our  excellent  consul,  Mr.  De  Leon 
(wffiom  may  government  long  preserve  in  Egypt  for  trav- 
elers’ sakes),  placed  him  in  the  same  position  as  American 
agent,  and  the  English  consul  then  restored  him.  The 
only  repayment  that  can  be  made  for  his  attention  must 
be  some  small  present,  since  he  receives  no  salary  from 
our  government,  and  of  course  no  money  from  travelers. 
Many  a dozen  of  capital  wine  finds  its  way  into  the  cool 
temple  of  Luxor,  and  Mustapha,  having  no  use  for  it  him- 
self, opens  it  for  every  guest,  and  of  course  never  suc- 
ceeds in  diminishing  his  stock  or  its  variety. 

Mr.  Tonge  had  arrived  at  Luxor  some  weeks  previously, 
bringing  with  him,  as  is  the  custom  with  travelers  in  the 


376 


A DYING  ARTIST. 


East,  his  bedstead,  bedding,  and  ordinary  camp  furni- 
ture. Mustapba  gave  him  a room  in  his  house  large  and 
comfortable  in  all  respects,  at  least  as  much  so  as  could 
be  expected  in  a rough,  mud-brick  structure,  for  it  was 
clean  and  whitewashed,  and  had  one  window  ten  feet 
from  the  floor  with  glass  in  it,  and  here,  surrounded  by 
his  painting  materials,  the  artist  was  accustomed  to  live, 
and  here  he  was  to  die.  It  was  a dismal-looking  room  at 
best  in  the  night  time,  and  when  Trumbull  and  I entered, 
it  was  almost  impossible  to  see  across  it,  so  dense  was  the 
smoke  of  tobacco  from  the  chibouks  of  his  Arab  attend- 
ants, of  whom  three  sat  on  the  floor  pufiing  most  reso- 
lutely, and  with  the  utmost  stolidity  waiting  God’s  will 
in  the  case  of  their  master. 

He  was  in  so  much  agony  that  I do  not  believe  he  had 
once  thought  of  their  presence.  Certainly  he  had  not 
appreciated  the  closeness  of  the  air  and  density  of  the 
smoke.  First  of  all,  therefore,  we  cleared  them  out  and 
threw  open  the  room  to  the  air  of  night,  that  soft,  rich 
air  of  Egypt,  that  glorious  air  of  Thebes  the  ancient,  laden 
with  memories  as  with  the  odor  of  flowers,  and  which  now 
stole  in  across  the  forehead  of  the  dying  artist. 

He  was  dying.  It  was  vain  to  look  for  help  on  earth  ; 
and  he,  too,  as  millions  before  him  on  that  plain,  was  go- 
ing into  the  presence  of  older  times  than  those  when  the 
temple  wherein  he  lay  was  built — into  the  presence  of  the 
Ancient  of  Days  himself.  The  wanderer  w^as  nearer  home 
than  he  had  supposed,  and  it  was  a sudden  but  a forcible 
thought  which  his  position  brought  to  our  minds,  that 
after  all  we  might  not  be  so  far  away  from  home  as  but 
an  hour  before  we  had  been  dreaming. 

It  was  a strange  place  for  a Christian  to  die.  I had 
read  of  such  scenes,  I had  written  of  them  when  I wrote 
imaginations,  but  I never  thought  I should  see  the  life- 
light  grow  dim  in  the  eye  of  a fellow-Christian  in  a dis- 


A DYING  ARTIST. 


377 


tant  land,  among  the  columns  of  an  ancient  temple,  on 
the  very  spot  where  thousands  of  thousands  had  wor- 
shiped the  gods  of  Egypt  in  the  long  gone  years  of  Egyp- 
tian glory.  The  dread  past  and  the  awful  future  seemed 
standing  before  me  there. 

It  was  but  little  that  we  could  do  for  him.  He  did  not 
think  he  was  dying.  He  was  a man  of  peculiar  sensitive- 
ness, and  I have  often  smiled  sadly  as  I remembered  his 
interrupting  himself  in  a fit  of  severe  pain,  by  suddenly 
apologizing  to  us  for  the  impossibility  of  giving  us  a bet- 
ter reception.  So  little  did  he  think  his  case  desperate 
that  he  lit  a cigar  and  insisted  on  smoking  it,  hoping  to 
obtain  some  relief  to  the  pain  from  its  sedative  effect. 

The  night  wore  on  sloAvly.  It  was  already  midnight 
when  we  were  called,  and  toward  morning  we  left  him 
for  a little  while  and  returned  to  the  boat.  The  ladies 
were  sleeping,  and  I threw  myself  on  one  couch  while 
Trumbull  took  the  other,  and  we  slept  profoundly. 

But  a messenger  called  us  long  before  the  sun  was  up, 
and  springing  to  our  feet  we  hastened  to  the  house.  The 
cold  sky  of  a winter  night  at  home  is  not  more  clear  than 
was  that  sky  above  the  ruins  of  old  Thebes,  and  the  stars 
looked  through  it  with  perfect  beauty.  Passing  rapidly 
througlf  the  corridor  of  noble  columns,  and  up  the  steps 
of  Mustapha’s  house,  we  entered  the  room  where  the  sick 
man  lay. 

Already  there  was  a terrible  change,  and  it  had  been 
very  swift.  But  a few  moments  previously  he  had  said 
to  Mustapha,  “ I am  free  from  pain,”  and  then  said,  “ I 
am  dying,”  and  that  was  the  last  sound  he  uttered  on 
earth.  As  I entered  he  lay  on  his  back,  his  face  calm, 
white,  placid,  and  a smile  of  content,  as  if  the  satisfaction 
of  relief  from  pain,  was  on  his  features.  He  was  breath- 
ing calmly,  but  did  not  know  us,  and  I sat  down  at  his 
head  while  Trumbull  stood  at  his  side,  and  we  waited  in 


S78 


A DYING  ARTIST. 


silence  the  coming  of  the  great  change  that  comes  alike 
in  Egypt  or  in  England,  or  our  home,  that  no  man  can 
escape,  flee  he  never  so  far  to  distant  lands. 

And  the  great  sun  came  up  once  more  on  the  land  of 
the  Pharaohs,  and  as  his  first  rays  fell  across  the  valley  and 
touched  the  lips  of  Memnon  on  his  ancient  throne,  our 
friend  heard  a voice,  but  it  was  not  the  fabled  voice  of 
Memnon,  a voice  out  of  the  deep  that  overhangs  the  land 
of  Memnon  and  old  England  alike,  and  he  dej)arted  in 
obedience  to  the  call. 

No  convulsion  marked  the  mighty  change  which  had 
come  over  him,  the  Eternal  receiving  the  child  of  time. 
A sigh,  one  long  deep  respiration,  the  smile  that  had 
flitted  over  his  countenance  rested  on  it  in  perfect  quiet, 
and  he  was  dead.  I leaned  over  him  and  laid  my  hand 
on  his  forehead.  It  was  vrarm  but  pulseless.  I pressed 
it  on  his  heart,  but  it  had  done  with  the  heavy  labor  of 
beating  the  swift  hours  of  existence.  I took  his  hand  in 
mine,  but  the  skillful  fingers  that  had  grasped  the  pencil 
but  yesterday  returned  no  answering  grasp,  and  so  I knew 
that  all  was  over,  and  he  was  in  the  dread  assembly  of 
the  departed. 

So  all  was  over.  The  promises  of  childhood  and  the 
hopes  of  maturer  years,  all  love,  all  ambition,  all  labor, 
anxiety,  strife,  and  care,  all  wandering  travel,  all  restless- 
ness, every  thing  that  was  earthly  of  him  Avas  ended  here, 
in  this  ancient  temple,  and  we  alone  beheld  the  end,  and 
were  left  to  record  it. 

If  the  studio  of  a dead  artist  be  a mournful  place  after 
he  is  gone,  what  think  you  was  the  aspect  of  that  room 
as  we  rose  from  his  bed-side  and  looked  in  one  another’s 
faces,  and  then  around  us  ? His  easel  stood  where  he 
had  left  it  two  days  previous,  and  upon  it  a finished 
painting  of  the  ruin  in  which  he  died.  His  pencils  lay 
where  his  fingers  had  dropped  them,  never  to  be  re- 


K A R N A K. 


379 


Slimed;  liis  clothes  where  he  had  thrown  them  in  his 
hasty  undressing.  His  Arab  servants  sat  at  the  door 
with  knees  lifted  to  their  chins,  and  Ali  was  weeping  bit- 
terly near  the  feet  of  his  dead  master, 

I looked  back  at  the  now  changing  face  of  the  artist, 
and  bowed  my  head  in  silent,  solemn  assent  to  the  power 
that  had  overcome  that  mighty  thing  that  we  call  man. 

Then  I crossed  his  arms  over  his  breast  in  token  of  the 
hope  that  alone  remains  when  dust  is  dust ; and  walking 
slowly  out  into  the  soft  sunshine,  lay  down  under  the 
great  columns  and  looked  toward  the  western  hills  and 
the  tombs  of  the  ancient  Pharaohs. 

There  was  a gloom  in  the  sunshine  of  the  next  morn- 
ing that  I can  not  well  describe.  It  was  the  same  sun- 
shine, and  it  shone  as  quietly  and  warmly  on  the  valley 
of  the  Xile  as  ever  before,  but  for  all  that  it  seemed  to 
me  sombre  and  mournful. 

We  had  marked  out  this  day  for  a visit  to  Karnak,  our 
first  visit  there.  It  was,  perhaps,  more  a subject  of  my. 
thoughts  and  desires  than  any  other  ruin  in  Egypt. 
From  boyhood  I had  been  accustomed  to  think  and 
dream  of  these  ruins  as  the  chief  and  most  wonderful  in 
Egypt  or  the  world.  I had  read  of  them  a thousand 
times  ; had  passed  hours  in  gazing  on  pictures  of  them  ; 
had  written  descriptions  of  them  to  read  over  to  myself, 
and  had  compared  every  wonder  that  I saw  or  heard  of 
with  them. 

One  of  my  most  distinct  recollections  of  college  life 
was  that  which  recalled  professor  Dod,  long  since  dead, 
as  he  sat  before  us  reading  his  eloquent  lectures  on  ar- 
chitecture, and  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  described 
the  stately  grandeur  of  Karnak,  and  contrasted  it  with 
the  puny  works  of  Greeks  and  Homans.  Aside,  therefore, 
from  desires  for  study,  my  great  hope  in  visiting  Egypt 
was  to  see  these  stupendous  remains,  and,  in  going  up 


380 


THE  DEAD  ARTIST. 


the  river,  we  had  agreed  that  we  did  not  wish  to  make  a 
hurried  visit  to  them,  but  would  reserve  them  for  a first 
calm,  quiet,  long  day’s  view. 

Miriam  and  Amy  went  off  early  on  donkeys  with  Trum- 
bull and  the  Arab  attendants.  I remained  to  finish  a 
letter,  and  then  w^alked  up  to  Mustapha’s  house,  and 
entered  the  room  in  which  poor  Tonge  was  lying. 

Mustapha  had  agreed  to  take  charge  of  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  burial.  Indeed,  he  volunteered  every 
service  imaginable,  and  behaved  as  if  his  brother  lay 
dead  in  his  house  instead  of  a roving  traveler,  unknown 
to  him  a few  days  previously. 

The  room  was  little  changed.  We  had  closed  and 
sealed  his  trunks  and  packages,  and  every  thing  looked 
as  if  he  were  ready  to  leave  on  a journey,  and  was  but 
lying  on  the  bed  a little  while  to  rest  hmself,  and  would 
start  up  and  be  away  when  the  time  should  come.  Alas 
for  him,  the  desert  stretched  far  away  to  the  east  and  to 
the  west,  and  the  strong  river  flowed  swiftly  downward 
to  the  sea;  but  he  would  not  cross  the  desert,  nor  set  sail 
on  the  river.  He  was  already  gone  on  the  long  journey 
beyond  the  desert,  beyond  the  dim  light  of  the  desert 
sun,  beyond  the  sea  to  the  land  where  there  is  no  sea. 

I stood  alone  within  the  ruins  of  the  great  Temple  of 
Luxor  by  the  body  of  the  young  artist,  and — nay,  I will 
not  conceal  it,  know  it  who  will — there  were  tears  wept 
for  him  that  morning,  though  his  mother  w^as  far  away, 
and  he  was  buried  in  the  sand  long  months  before  her 
ears  rang  to  the  terrible  story  of  his  death. 

I covered  up  his  face  and  left  him  there,  stepping 
quietly  out  into  the  shadow  of  the  great  columns  of  the 
temple,  and  thence  Avalked  swiftly  through  the  streets  of 
the  village  toward  Karnak. 

Outside  the  village,  to  the  eastward  of  the  great 
avenue  of  sj^hinxes  that  once  extended  from  Luxor  to 


DIGGi:7G  A GRAVE. 


381 


Karnak,  is  a mound  elevated  a little  above  the  plain, 
and  so  far  raised  that  the  overflow  of  the  Nile  can  never 
reach  it.  I am  not  able  to  say  wliat  that  mound  covers. 
Whether  it  be  the  ruin  of  a temple,  or  of  an  ancient 
house,  or  of  some  other  structure  of  olden  time,  must  be 
left  to  conjecture.  It  is  a desolate  spot.  No  grass  grows 
on  it ; but  the  dust  of  the  desert  and  the  plain  are  min- 
gled with  broken  pottery  and  stone.  No  rain  falls  on  it, 
nor  water  of  the  Nile  reaches  it.  It  stands  up  a little 
above  the  surrounding  land,  so  as  to  be  visible  from  Kar- 
nak and  Luxor  alike.  Upon  this  mound  there  is  a grave. 
The  Arabs  said  it  was  the  grave  of  an  Englishman.  Per- 
haps— probably — it  was.  Here  we  had  directed  tliem  to 
dig  a grave  for  our  friend  ; and  before  I went  to  Karnak 
I walked  around  by  this  spot  to  see  that  the  work  was 
ju’operly  executed. 

Two  fellaheen,  naked,  gaunt,  and  bony,  sat  on  the 
mound  by  their  completed  work,  and  demanded  buck- 
slieesh  for  it  when  I approached.  It  was  an  Arab  grave, 
five  feet  long  and  three  deep;  no  more.  They  were  as- 
tonished at  my  dissatisfaction ; and  when  I gave  them  a 
stalk  of  doura  seven  feet  long,  and  told  them  to  dig  it  as 
long  and  as  deep  as  that,  their  astonishment  was  un- 
bounded. But  they  went  to  work  with  their  pick  and 
fingers,  and  I left  them  diligently  engaged,  and  walked 
on  over  the  desolate  plain,  covered  with  halfeh  grass, 
along  which  formerly  extended  the  most  magnificent 
avenue  of  sculptured  stone  that  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

I passed  the  day  at  Karnak,  and  returned  as  the  sun 
was  going  down.  Mustapha  had  completed  his  arrange- 
ments strictly  in  accordance  with  good  taste.  He  had 
provided  a coffin — a rough  affair  indeed — but  he  had  con- 
cealed the  roughness  by  tacking  over  it  the  blue  cotton 
cloth  of  the  country,  the  only  cloth  to  be  procured  in  the 
village;  and,  with  a feeling  that  astonished  me  in  a 


382 


THE  LAST  LOOK. 


MobammedaH,  be  bad  trimmed  tbe  coffin  on  tbe  edo-es 
Avitb  white  taj)e,  and  nailed  two  strips  on  tbe  lid  so  as  to 
form  tbe  sign  whereby  we  are  accustomed  to  signify  our 
faith  in  tbe  Saviour. 

Once  more  I looked  in  bis  face.  Mine  v/ere  tbe  last 
eyes  that  should  look  on  those  features  until  tbe  far-off 
morning,  and  I alone  of  all  tbe  earth  was  to  preserve  the 
memory  of  that  marble  countenance,  so  that  if  in  my  fu- 
ture wanderings  there  should  by  chance  be  any  one- 
mother  or  brother,  sister,  or  better  loved  than  all,  who 
should  demand  of  me  how  he  looked  when  the  light  was 
forever  shut  away  from  his  white  brow,  I could  answer. 
At  that  moment  there  went  a swift  thought  homeward. 
I thought  if  I were  he ; if  that  pale  forehead  were  mine  ; 
if  that  dark  mustache  and  heavy  beard  were  mine ; if 
that  closed  eyelid  were  tins  one,  and  that  hushed  lip  this 
lip,  what  sad  lament  vrould  there  be  in  my  far  home, 
what  grief  to  my  old  father,  what  heart-breaking  agony 
to  my  beloved  mother,  when  some  one  should  come  in 
on  them,  in  their  home  among  the  trees,  and  tell  them 
“ He  is  dead  !” 

I looked  wistfully — how  wistfully  ! — into  that  face  and 
asked  yet  again  and  again,  “ Is  that  all  ?”  Strange  in- 
consistency, it  seemed,  that  yesterday  I thought  nothing 
of  that  man,  and  now  death  has  been  here  and  his  dust 
demands  reverence  as  never  living  dust  demands  it,  even 
though  it  be  the  crowned  brow  of  an  emperor.  Yester- 
day I might  have  forgotten  him — now  he  is  an  immortal, 
and  I shall  remember  him  forever. 

He  was  a man  of  like  passions  with  myself.  He  lived, 
labored,  sinned,  and  suffered  as  do  I.  But  this  is  not  he. 
There  is  no  sin  here.  This  is  a pure,  sinless  body.  What 
was  his  faith  I do  not  know,  nor  whether  he  believed  in 
God  or  Saviour ; but  this  much  I know,  that  he  is  gone, 
and  this  that  lies  before  me  is  tlio  image  in  which  God 


THE  FUNERAL  PROCESSION. 


383 


made  mau,  and  death  has  sanctified  it  by  his  holy  touch, 
and  somewhere,  on  this  sorrowful  earth,  there  are  those 
who  would  give  years  of  life  to  stand  where  I stand  nov/ 
and  look  once,  but  one  instant,  on  those  calm  features  and 
that  holy  clay.  And  is  this  all  ? 

Yes,  that  was  all!  A brief  day — a brilliant  morning, 
and  a sudden  darkness.  That  was  all  ? He  had  lived  his 
life  through  swiftly  and  passed  to  the  presence  of  the 
mighty  dead.  A voice  out  of  the  deep — I know  not 
whether  it  was  the  voice  of  one  loved  on  earth  and  gone 
onward  long  ago,  or  but  the  deep  voice  that  all  men 
hear — a voice  had  called  him,  and  he  had  heard  it  and 
was  gone. 

The  old  Coptic  bishop  stood  a little  way  off  as  I cov- 
ered up  his  face,  and  caught  my  gaze  as  I lifted  my  dim 
eyes  from  that  last  sad  look.  He  was  a venerable  looking 
man,  large  and  commanding  in  appearance,  the  represen- 
tative perhaps  of  as  pure  a line  of  apostolical  succession  as 
the  world  can  furnish.  But  he  was  not  a worthy  succes- 
sor of  Mark.  He  came,  not  for  respect  to  the  dead,  but 
for  backsheesh  from  the  living  ; and  I think  his  Christian 
sympathies  were  not  strongly  excited  toward  the  Ameri- 
can branch  of  the  church  by  the  manner  in  which  we 
treated  his  demand. 

Four  American  gentlemen,  travelers  upward  bound, 
stopping  at  Luxor  for  a day,  arrived  at  this  moment,  and 
we  proceeded  to  carry  him  out  for  burial.  It  was  a simple 
procession.  Six  Arabs  lifted  the  coffin,  and  seven  Christ- 
ians followed  them.  The  unsatisfied  Coptic  functionary 
fell  in  behind  us,  and  a stragglmg  crowd  of  two  or  three 
hundred  Arabs  came  on,  respectfully  and  in  silence.  We 
passed  through  the  village  streets  and  out  by  the  market- 
place, and  down  the  hollow,  and  up  to  the  ready  grave. 
It  was  not  very  much  like  home,  O gentle  reader  of  these 
lines,  who  prayest  every  night  that  God  will  let  you  die 


384 


THE  FUNERAL. 


and  be  buried  with  the  beloved  of  old  times.  It  was  not 
like  that  quiet  church-yard  in  the  up  country — that  holy 
spot  where,  with  feeble  footsteps  and  quick  floods  of  tears, 
we  laid  her  darling  head  in  all  its  young  beauty  below 
the  myrtle  and  the  violets.  As  I walked  that  sad  dist- 
ance, I bethought  me  of  all  that.  The  cofiin  on  the  table 
under  the  pulpit ; the  old  clergyman  leaning  over  it,  and 
weeping  bitterly  for  her  he  too  loved  beyond  words  to 
tell ; the  broken  words  of  faith  and  hope  that  fell  from 
Ills  lips  at  length,  and  the  deep  sob  that  would  not  be  re- 
strained from  her — the  gentle  friend  of  the  dead  girl — 
who  sat  in  the  choir  and  strove  once  more  to  sing,  but 
could  not,  though  the  song  was  one  of  triumph  ; the  lift- 
ing of  the  cofliu  and  the  heavy  tread  as  they  carried  it 
down  the  aisle,  and  out  to  the  corner  under  the  elm-tree, 
and  the  soft  sunshine  falling  through  the  branches  into 
the  grave  as  if  to  hallow  it  for  her  whose  life  had  been 
one  long  sunshine  on  our  lives,  gone  out  indeed  in  black 
and  ’sudden  night ; the  reverential  pause,  the  deep  and 
solemn  silence  as  the  dust  was  let  down  slowly  to  its 
kindred,  and  the  low  wail  of  agony  that  God  heard  on 
his  great  white  throne  and  answered  with  the  words  of 
everlasting  life — all  these  were  before  me  now. 

The  sun  was  on  tlie  horizon’s  edge  as  we  approached 
the  grave  and  for  a moment  set  down  our  burden  on  the 
surface  of  the  ground.  Karnak,  in  majestic  glory,  was 
before  us.  Luxor  looked  down  on  the  scene,  while,  far 
off  across  the  rum  and  the  tflain,  Memnon  of  the  stony 
eyes  gazed  on  the  group  as  he  had  gazed  in  thousands  of 
years  on  burial-scenes  from  the  pageant  that  followed 
Amunoph  himself  to  this. 

The  natives  crowded  around.  Children,  naked  and 
filthy,  crawled  on  hands  and  feet  between  the  legs-of  the 
older  spectators  and  surrounded  the  edge  of  the  grave, 
gazing  curiously  into  its  depths,  while  one  naked  young 


H E Q U I E M ^E  T E R N A M.’ 


385 


Arab,  bolder  than  the  rest,  forced  his  head  between  my 
ankles  and  lay  flat  on  the  ground,  content  with  the  view 
that  he  thus  obtained  of  this  mysterious  rite. 

We  read  certain  passages  from  the  burial  service,  lifted 
our  hats  reverently  from  our  heads,  and  then  laid  him  in 
the  grave ; and  with  our  own  hands  and  feet,  for  shovels 
are  unknown  in  Egypt,  we  threw  in  the  earth,  and  so 
buried  him  in  the  dust  of  that  old  land  where  God  will 
find  him  when  ho  calls  the  Pharaohs  and  their  followers 
to  meet  him  in  the  awakening. 

Nearly  a year  after  the  occurrence  of  these  events,  it 
was  ray  melancholy  pleasure  to  meet  in  England  the 
friends  of  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Tonge,  whose  fate  I have 
described,  and  to  communicate  to  them  the  j^articulars 
of  his  death  and  burial.  A rude  brick  monument,  which 
Ave  caused  to  be  erected  over  his  grave,  Avill  preserve  its 
locahty  till  this  generation  and  all  Avho  knew  and  loved 
him  are  themselves  epitaphed. 


36. 

Jl}e  of  ffqhiqli. 

Theee  are  some  places  on  the  face 
of  this  old  earth  where  antiquity 
sits  throned  and  crowned,  compel- 
ling homage  to  its  old  but  radiant 
splendor.  Such  a spot  is  the  Par- 
thenon, where  the  ancient  is  beauti- 
ful and  glorious,  and  the  modern 
traveler  bows  in  delighted  adoration 
to  the  splendor  of  that  beauty  and 
glory. 

There  are  other  places  where  an- 
tiquity is  crowned  with  roses,  and 
claims  in  the  hearts  of  men  a kin- 
dred spirit  of  joy  and  joviality ; 
where  we  seize  the  old  by  the  hand, 
clasp  it  in  our  arms,  treat  it  as  of  the 
same  blood  and  passion  with  our- 
selves, and  draw  down  the  regal  dignity  of  age  to  the 
level  of  our  own  humanity.  Such  a place  is  the  house  of 
the  tragic  poet  at  Pompeii,  such  the  vast  halls  of  Caracal- 
la’s  baths  in  a sunny  day  at  Rome. 

There  are  places  where  the  ancient  wears  a brow  of 
serene  dignity,  and  is  crowned  with  gray  and  reverend 
locks.  Such  places  are  awe-full.  Such  is  the  summit 


EXTENT  OF  KARNAK. 


387 


of  Cheops,  such  the  shrine  at  Abou  Simbal,  such  pre- 
eminently the  grand  hall  at  Karnak. 

Beyond  a question  this  ruin  is  the  most  stupendous 
relic  of  antiquity,  the  most  grand  achievement  of  human 
art,  ancient  or  modern,  that  the  -world  has  seen. 

Karnak  is  a greater  wonder  than  the  pyramids.  The 
heaping  of  stone  together  in  such  a mass  was,  indeed,  a 
kingly  idea  of  Cheops;  but  here  was  the  same  royal 
thought,  the  same  masses  of  rock,  hewn  into  graceful 
forms  and  shapes,  that  indicated  taste  and  design,  and 
grouped  in  a temj^le,  or  in  temples,  that  surpassed  the 
pyramids  in  extent.  I have  no  doubt  there  is  more  stone 
in  the  ruins  of  Karnak  than  in  the  pyramid  of  Cheops. 
The  size  of  many  of  the  stones  is  greater  than  of  any  in 
the  pyramids,  and  the  work  of  elevating  them  to  the  tops 
of  lolly  columns,  and  arranging  them  in  the  form  of  the 
architraves  of  this  temple,  was  certainly  much  more  dif- 
ficult and  laborious  than  any  of  the  labor  in  erecting  the 
tombs  of  Cheops  and  Cephrenes. 

The  reader  can  with  difilculty  obtain  an  idea  of  the  ex- 
tent of  these  temples,  which,  connecting  one  with  another, 
form  the  ruins  which  we  call  Karnak ; nor  shall  I i^ause 
here  to  weary  him  with  statistical  information  about  them. 
Enough,  however,  to  say  that  the  immediately  connected 
ruins  extend  for  a space  of  three  fourths  of  a mile,  by  half 
a mile,  on  which  lie  heaps  of  stone,  fallen  columns,  obelisks, 
and  towers  ; while  here  and  there  portions  of  the  ancient 
buildings  stand  high  up  in  their  original  grandeur  and 
perfection,  defying  the  power  of  time.  The  buildings 
which  we  may  call  the  chief  temple  are  about  1200  feet  in 
length,  by  330  in  breadth. 

It  was  not  storm  nor  decay  that  overthrew  the  temples 
of  Egypt.  Time  had  no  more  power  over  them  than  he 
had  over  the  stars  above  them.  The  last  mark  of  the 
chisel  which  the  sculptor  lefl  on  the  stone  remains  as  it 


388 


IMMORTALITY. 


M’as  left,  and  the  pencil-lines  drawn  to  direct  hie  future 
work  are  nneffaced,  and  literally  as  fresh  as  the  moment 
after  they  were  drawn. 

This  is  a fact  which  every  person  who  has  examined 
Koum  Ombos  can  verify,  wdiere,  on  the  portico  of  the 
temple,  exposed  to  every  wind  that  blows  over  the  lofty 
hill  on  whose  summit  the  temple  stands,  remain  the  out- 
line sketches,  in  red  and  brown,  made  by  the  sculptor  to 
direct  his  chisel,  and  the  last  touches  of.  the  chisel  among 
them,  as  if  he  had  but  yesterday  laid  dowtf  his  mallet  and 
would  to-morrow  resume  it.  And  this  among  fallen  col- 
umns and  the  scattered  ruins  of  the  temj)le. 

TVhat,  then,  worked  the  ruin?  It  was  not  earth- 
quake; for  those  parts  which  earthquakes  could  never 
have  shaken  are  scattered  over  the  plain.  What  shattered 
the  colossal  statue  of  Osymandyas  and  broke  his  granite 
throne  ? 

The  answer  is  with  God.  Conjecture  vainly  seeks  to 
account  for  the  ruin.  Probably  the  conquering  armies 
of  invading  nations  wasted  their  energies  in  the  vain  at- 
tempt to  efface  the  memory  of  the  conquered. 

I am  more  than  ever  impressed  with  the  conviction 
that  the  ancient  Egyptians  built  temples  for  immortality. 
That  they  expected  in  their  own  proper  persons  to  return 
to  these  plains,  to  worship  at  these  altars,  possibly  with 
the  visible  presence  of  their  gods. 

For  this  they  sought  tombs  in  the  solid  mountains, 
whence  they  could  walk  out  in  later  days  and  view  the 
redemption  of  the  land  of  Misraim;  for  this  they  em- 
balmed their  dead,  that  in  the  resurrection  they  might 
know  each  other,  and  souls  might  not  wander  in  deep 
darkness  seeking  in  vain  a clay  tenement.  From  this 
arose  the  fable  of  the  ghosts  wandering  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  Styx,  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  to  this 
day,  under  Mohammedan  teaching,  the  Egyptian  hurries 


APPROACH  TO  KARNAK. 


389 


his  dead  into  the  grave,  believing  that  the  angels  who  are 
to  question  them  for  admission  to  heaven  will  not  ap- 
proach them  till  the  grave  is  closed  over  them.  For  this 
resurrection  they  piled  these  grand  temples.  An  artist 
friend  of  mine  one  day  proposed  to  fill  the  background 
of  a picture  with  a broken  column  of  Egyptian  style. 

“ My  friend,  it  will  not  do — there  is  no  such  thing  in 
Egypt  as  a broken  column.” 

“ No  columns  in  Egypt  ?” 

“ Yes,  there  are  hundreds,  but  I never  saw  one  broken 
— they  are  either  erect  or  prostrate,  never  broken.  They 
are  too  grand  to  be  broken.  No  earthquake  could  break 
one  though  it  might  hurl  it  from  its  pedestal.” 

This  remark  applies,  of  course,  only  to  monolithic 
columns.  Those  which  are  built  of  separate  layers  are 
often  scattered  in  fragments. 

Approaching  the  great  front  from  the  river  (not  as  w^e 
came  from  Luxor,  which  is  south  of  Karnak,  but  entering 
from  the  west),  we  have  before  us  the  two  propylon  tow- 
ers, whose  vast  size  and  height  surpass  all  others  in  Egypt. 
Long  before  reaching  the  gateway  between  them,  we  are 
passing  through  an  avenue  of  sphinxes,  or  crio-sphinxes, 
as  Wilkinson  calls  them,  but  in  fact  rams  of  colossal  size, 
facing  the  wmrshiper  on  each  side  as  he  approaches  the 
temple.  Passing  through  the  pylon  or  gateway,  we  enter 
a court  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  by  three  hundred 
and  thirty  feet,  with  a corridor  on  each  side  of  it,  and  the 
remains  of  a double  row  of  columns  through  the  centre, 
one  only  of  which  is  standing.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
this  court  stand  two  other  lofty  and  grand  propylon  tow- 
ers, passing  through  which,  we  enter  the  great  hall  of 
columns.  This  hall  is  three  hundred  and  twenty-nine 
feet  in  breadth  by  a hundred  and  seventy  in  length. 
When  complete,  it  consisted  of  a central  aisle,  which 
was  higher  than  the  naves  or  the  remainder  of  the  room. 


390 


VASTNESS  OF  RUINS. 


being  supported  by  two  rows  of  columns,  six  in  each  row ; 
one  hundred  and  twenty-two  other  columns  supported 
the  rest  of  this  vast  hall,  of  which  I counted  one  hundred 
and  two  now  standing,  and  the  others  lay  prostrate.  The 
twelve  central  columns  are  standing. 

These  central  columns  are  each  sixty-six  feet  in  height, 
without  counting  the  base  and  capital.  Including  these, 
they  are  ninety  feet  high.  The  diameter  of  each  is 
twelve  feet.  I beg  the  reader  to  mark  out  these  figures 
on  the  ground,  describing  a circle  of  twelve  feet  diam- 
eter, and  endeavor  thereby  to  get  some  idea  of  the  size 
of  these  columns. 

The  other  hundred  and  two  columns  are  each  forty-one 
feet  nine  inches  in  height  (pedestal  and  capital  not  in- 
cluded), and  nine  feet  one  inch  in  diameter.  'No  other 
spot  on  earth  realizes  so  perfectly  the  idea  of  a forest  of 
columns. 

Without  pausing  now  to  express  our  wonder  and  awe 
in  this  vast  hall,  we  pass  out  of  it  between  two  lofty  tow- 
ers, as  before,  into  another  court,  now  a heap  of  stone,  in 
which  stands  an  obelisk  of  granite,  its  mate  lying  broken 
to  pieces  near  it.  Again  we  pass  between  two  towers, 
not  so  large  as  the  others,  and  now  lying  in  ruins,  and 
enter  another  court,  m which  stands  the  great  obelisk, 
ninety-two  feet  high  and  eight  feet  square  at  its  base, 
while  its  companion  lies  in  broken  masses  by  its  side. 

Already,  I am  aware,  that  I shall  lose  my  reader  for  a 
companion  if  I attempt  to  lead  him  any  further  through 
these  vast  buildings,  and  yet  we  have  not  approached  the 
sanctuary  in  which  the  gods  sat  of  old  to  receive  homage 
and  sacrifice. 

Other  towers,  another  court,  another  court,  a granite 
gateway,  and  another  broad  area  lead  to  the  holy  place, 
and  beyond  it  the  buildings  stretch  to  the  eastward  even 
further  than  to  the  west,  whence  we  have  come.  All 


SHISH AK. 


391 


these  vast  courts  and  areas,  obelisks,  towers,  and  halls, 
are  or  were  surrounded  with  columns,  sphinxes,  and  stat- 
ues, and  every  column  and  stone  is  covered  Avith  carving, 
and  brilliantly  painted.  Not  only  was  the  temple  colos- 
sal in  its  proportions,  but  it  was  gorgeous  beyond  all  de- 
scription in  its  furniture  and  adornments. 

Of  its  age  I hesitate  to  speak,  since  it  is  a subject  on 
Avhich  Egyptiologists  have  differed  widely  ; but  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  the  more  ancient  parts,  those  eastward 
of  the  sanctuary,  were  built  prior  to  the  arrival  of  Jacob 
and  his  family  in  Egypt,  Avliile  the  grand  hall  was  erected 
at  a later  time.  Some  portions  of  this  vast  temple,  doubt- 
less, stood  in  the  days  of  Abraham,  and  it  is  not  impossi- 
ble that  the  traditions  of  the  Arabs  may  be  correct,  and 
that  Noah  himself  may  have  stood  Avithin  its  walls.  Cer- 
tainly it  AA^as  but  a brief  time  after  the  deluge  that  the 
foundations  were  laid.  Of  the  monarchs  AA^ho  erected  the 
different  parts  it  is  not  difficult  to  speak,  since  their  names 
are  blazoned  on  every  stone  laid  by  their  orders.  But  of 
the  period  in  the  Avorld’s  history  when  these  monarchs 
lived  and  reigned  it  is  more  difficult,  indeed  next  to  im- 
possible, to  affirm. 

There  is,  however,  one  portion  of  the  temple  Avhich 
possesses  a more  profound  interest  to  the  Christian  trav- 
eler. 

On  the  outside  of  the  south  Avail  of  the  grand  hall  is  a 
representation  of  a god,  leading  many  captives  to  a king, 
who  is  seated  to  receive  them. 

The  cartouche  gives  the  name  of  the  king — Sheshonk, 
or  Shishak,  aaJio  is  mentioned  in  1st  Kings,  chap.  14,  25 ; 
and  2d  Chronicles,  chap.  12. 

This  cartouche  is  well  known.  It  appears  on  a very  in- 
teresting piece  of  scale  armor  in  the  NeAV  York  collection, 
of  Avhich  a fac  simile  is  given  at  the  end  of  this  chapter. 

The  name  of  Shishak  Avould  be  of  great  interest  in 


392 


C H A M P 0 L L I 0 N . 


itself,  but  in  this  instance  is  of  a thousandfold  more  in> 
tense  interest  from  the  names  of  the  captives  that  are 
before  him,  each  of  whom  is  represented,  as  m the  vig- 
nette at  the  head  of  this  chapter,  which  is  the  most  re- 
markable of  them  all.  The  characters  in  this  peculiar 
figure,  the  battlemented  outline  of  which  represents  a 
fortified  city,  are  Aiudaii  Melk  Kaii,  and  the  whole  sign 
translated,  signifies  “ The  fortified  country  of  the  king  of 
the  Jews.” 

The  discovery  of  this  record  of  Scripture  history  on 
Egyj^tian  stone  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  Egypti- 
ology. 

Fears  had  been  entertained  and  expressed  that  there 
would  not  be  sufficient  confirmation  of  Scripture  found  in 
Egyj^tian  sculpture,  and  those  who  but  half  believed  their 
Bibles  were  afraid  of  the  monuments — a strange  fear  that 
is  found  in  the  history  of  every  jn’ogressive  science.  He 
whose  faith  in  revelation  is  firm,  always  sj>rings  mth  de- 
light to  the  investigation  of  new  fields,  knowing  (not 
hoping)  that  he  will  find  full  confirmation  and  new  assist- 
rmce  to  his  faith  and  understanding.  Before  Champollion 
visited  Egypt  this  sculptured  group  had  been  often  looked 
at  with  curious  eyes,  but  no  one  had  for  a moment  imag- 
ined its  significance,  or  value  in  a historical  view.  The 
king’s  name  was,  indeed,  known  as  Sheshonk,  Shishak,  as 
our  translation  of  the  Old  Testament  has  it ; but  although 
£L  hundred  scholars  had  seen  the  rov>^s  of  captives,  no  one 
of  them  had  read  here  any  thing  by  which  to  connect 
this  with  the  Scripture  history.  Champollion  landed  at 
Karnak  on  his  way  to  Upper  Egypt,  and  remained  an 
hour  or  two  in  the  vast  halls  that  are  the  wonder  of  mod- 
ern wanderers.  But  his  keen  eye  was  not  idle,  and  as  he 
passed  this  group,  reading  name  by  name  in  it  silently, 
he  started,  astonished  at  the  blindness  of  his  friends  who 
were  before  him,  and  read  aloud  to  them  the  name  Melek 


KING  OF  THE  JEWS. 


393 


Aiudah,  or  the  King  of  Judah.  The  oval  in  which  it 
was  inclosed  represents  a fortified  place,  and  the  sign  at 
the  bottom  of  those  within  the  oval  represents  a coun- 
try. It  was  like  a voice  out  of  the  ancient  ages,  that 
sound  among  the  ruins  of  Karnak,  as  the  great  scholar 
read  the  story  of  the  son  of  Solomon  on  the  wall  of  his 
conqueror’s  temple.  It  was  the  greatest,  as  it  was  almost 
the  first  of  the  new  discoveries,  and  a tribute  to  the  truth 
of  God’s  revelation  that  at  once  consecrated  and  sealed 
the  truth  of  the  scholar’s  investigations  and  their  results. 
That  wall  at  Karnak  is  the  most  interesting  spot  among 
the  fallen  temples  of  the  land  of  the  Pharaohs.  While 
other  records  have  been  elfaced,  that  one  seems  to  have 
been  kept  expressly  that  the  world  might  discover  it,  and, 
this  done,  it  is  crumbling. 

I observed  that  the  corner  of  the  stone  is  badly  broken, 
and  the  next  name,  which  was  perfect  in  Champollion’s 
time,  is  now  completely  efiaced.  This  will  soon  follow. 
But  hundreds  of  travelers  have  seen  it,  and  copies  of  it 
are  placed  on  record  forever,  so  that  future  ages  can  not 
doubt  that,  in  the  nineteenth  century  after  Christ,  Cham- 
pollion  read  on  the  walls  of  Karnak,  among  the  captured 
countries  of  Shishak,  the  name  of  the  kingdom  of  Solo- 
mon, and  the  name  that  was  hallowed  to  all  eternity 
afterward  when  Pilate  nailed  it  to  the  cross  of  the  last 
and  greatest  King  of  the  Jews. 

There  are  several  temples  near  the  great  temple,  and 
many  magnificent  structures,  gateways,  lofty  towers,  and 
the  most  stately  obelisks  in  Egypt  scattered  here  and 
there  in  this  vast  burial-place  of  temples,  for  I know  of 
no  other  title  so  fitting  as  this.  The  huge  mounds  are 
like  monster  graves,  and  there  are  old  shrines  under 
them.  There  are  hundreds,  I believe  I may  say  thousands 
of  sphinxes,  colossal  rams,  dog-headed  gods,  and  statues 
large  and  small,  scattered  over  a square  mile  of  ground. 

17* 


394 


KARNAK  BY  MOONLIGHT. 


There  are  two  sacred  ponds,  one  of  which  has  been  the 
scene  of  Mohammed  All’s  sacrilege.  He  broke  up  a vast 
amount  of  the  stone  and  threw  it  into  the  lake,  that  the 
water  might  dissolve  the  nitre  with  which  the  stone  was 
impregnated,  and  afterward  he  evaporated  the  water  and 
gathered  the  nitre  for  his  gunpowder  works  near  by. 
Thus  much  old  sculpture  was  destroyed. 

I visited  Karnak  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  all  days.  One 
Sunday  I passed  the  entire  day  sitting  in  the  grand  hall 
and  endeavoring  to  people  it  with  its  long  dead  worship- 
ers. Mohammed  Hassan,  my  faithful  sailor,  was  with  me 
and  sat  for  hours  as  silent  as  I.  I believe  that  the  aw- 
fulness of  the  place  had  impressed  him  as  well,  for  he 
would  sometimes  turn  his  large  eyes  toward  me  vdth  a 
look  that  I could  interpret  as  nothing  else  but  an  implor- 
ing anxiety  to  be  told  who  were  the  builders  of  this 
gigantic  edifice.  I told  him  as  well  as  I was  able,  but  he 
could  not  appreciate  that  it  was  of  thousands  of  years 
ago.  To  him  a century  was  greater  than  his  mind  could 
grasp^ — what  then  the  years  of  this  house,  or  the  eternity 
of  which  its  builders  dreamed  ? 

I was  often  there  by  moonlight.  Certainly  there  is  no 
spot  of  earth  that  the  moon  so  magnifies.  I had  been 
one  day  shooting  over  the  plain  till  sunset,  and  went 
around  by  Karnak  in  the  twilight,  climbed  the  great  tower 
of  the  western  gateway  of  the  grand  hall,  and  sat  down 
on  its  top  to  await  the  coming  of  moonlight.  The  weird 
quaint  startling  lights  and  shadows  of  the  twilight  deep- 
ening into  the  silver  shine  of  a moon  almost  full,  were 
exceedingly  beautiful.  I lingered  with  eyes  fixed  on  the 
tall  obelisks  that  pointed  their  taper  fingers  to  the  inac- 
cessible God  beyond  the  sky  of  Egypt  far  up  above  its 
massive  structures,  and  wondered  how  many  myriad  eyes 
had  gone  upward  like  mine  from  that  granite  pedestal, 
up,  up  to  the  everlasting  stars. 


THAT  LONELY  GRAVE. 


395 


Though  it  Tvas  a false  worship,  it  was  nevertheless  a 
spot  like  that  where  Jacob  slept,  for  above  that  shaft 
directing  eyes  to  heaven,  in  ancient  days  had  been  the 
ladder  that  angels  trod ; for  thoughts  are  angels,  messen- 
gers of  men  if  not  of  God,  and  right  there  away  more 
thoughts  had  traveled  to  the  unknown  abode  of  the 
Almighty  perhaps  than  at  any  other  point  in  mid  air 
between  earth  and  heaven. 

As  I walked  home  that  night  I turned  out  of  my  way 
to  visit  the  grave  of  my  poor  friend.  Two  jackals  sat  on 
it.  I would  have  shot  them,  but  I could  not  so  disturb 
the  holy  night  that  rested  on  that  heap  of  earth — the  last 
resting-place  of  the  dead  artist.  How  but  last  week  he 
would  have  loved  that  silver  light  of  Egypt  that  now 
blessed  his  grave!  I sat  dovm  one  moment  on  the 
mound. 

O friend  of  mine ! there  is  a grave-yard  in  which  the 
moonlight  falls  to-night  with  white  radiance  on  mounds 
of  snow.  In  a summer  evening  such' as  that,  I have  been 
accustomed  to  go  to  that  quiet  s]DOt  with  those  well- 
beloved,  and  sitting  down  on  the  broad  tablet  that  honors 
the  memory  of  a man  of  God  who  now  stands  before  his 
throne,  talk  of  the  village  dead  that  lie  around  him  in 
peaceful  sleep,  calm  as  the  moonlight  that  falls  through 
the  branches  of  the  willow  on  the  grave  of  his  daughter, 
the  fairest  child  of  the  valley  village.  There,  could  I but 
uncover  their  faces  as  they  were  when  laid  in  their  rest- 
ing-places, I have  loved  to  think  of  the  smiling  coun- 
tenances, the  peaceful  lips,  the  closed  eyes,  of  man  and 
maiden,  father  and  daughter,  I should  see,  who,  a goodly 
company  of  happy  people,  will  wait,  in  dust  of  which  they 
are  content  to  be  a part,  the  voice  of  Him  of  Bethany. 

Not  so  the  moonlight  grave-yard  scene  that  night.  The 
gray  walls  of  Karnak  and  of  Luxor  stood  up  against  the 
sky.  A grove  of  palms  close  by  the  mound,  cast  a deep 


396 


SCALE  ARMOR  OF  SHISHAK. 


shade  almost  up  to  it.  No  grass,  no  shrub,  no  flowers 
grew  there,  but  the  moonlight  was  as  pure  on  the  dust  of 
the  Nile  valley  as  among  the  violets  of  home  highlands, 
and  the  dead  slept  as  deeply,  as  j^rofoundly. 

When  I remember  that  mound  outside  the  walls  of 
Luxor,  in  the  dark  nights  while  I sit  here  in  America,  no 
longer  near  it  to  watch  over  him  I laid  there,  when  I 
think  of  the  loneseme  nights  of  summer  wdien  the  hot 
sun  has  been  there  all  day  long  and  the  jackals  wail 
there  all  night,  no  travelers  for  months  to  look  at  the 
mound,  and  he  lying  there — to-night— alone,  I shudder 
and  pray  God  I may  die  among  my  kindred. 


8T. 


When  we  were  at  Esne,  Suleiman 
Pasha,  the  governor  of  the  section  from 
Es  Souan  to  Luxor,  had  proposed  to  us 
to  amuse  ourselves  during  one  day  of 
our  stay  at  Luxor  by  an  exhibition  of 
the  performances  of  horses.  In  fact,  to 
get  up  what  tlie  natives  call  a Jereed 
play,  in  which  the  Arabs  should  display  their  horseman- 
ship for  our  especial  edification.  He  accordingly  wrote 
letters  to  the  nazir,  Islamin  Bey,  whose  dominion  is  in- 
ferior to  his,  and  whose  usual  residence  is  at  Luxor,  as 
also  to  old  Houssein  Kasheef,  the  local  governor  at  Lux- 
or, directing  them,  on  our  demand,  to  summon  all  the 
Arabs  in  their  dominions  who  w^ere  possessed  of  horses 
worth  showing  in  such  a performance. 

We  had  little  desire  to  seethe  exhibition,  > but  Abd- 
el-Atti  was  anxious  to  have  it  done,  and  we  allowed  him, 
in  our  names,  to  present  the  letters,  and  fix  a day  for  the 
Jereed.  The  day  came,  and  seventeen  horses  and  horse- 
men appeared.  ' This  was  a failure.  We  wanted  seventy 
at  the  least.  Nor  was  it  pleasant,  for  we  had  given  up  a 
day  to  it,  and  other  travelers  had  done  the  same,  on  our 
suggestion. 

Abd-el-Atti  was  in  a rage.  The  nazir  was  at  Goes, 
some  thirty  miles  distant,  but  the  letter  had  been  sent  to 


398 


JEREED  PLAY. 


him,  and  he  had  paid  no  attention  to  it.  He  was,  in  fact, 
the  only  surly  specimen  of  a Turk  that  we  met  with  in 
Egypt,  and  he  will  not  be  apt  to  forget  us,  having  leisure 
now  to  think  of  us.  Houssein  Kasheef  was  absent  at  Esne, 
and  in  no  way  to  blame  for  the  failure,  but  the  nazir  had 
the  entire  responsibility  of  it  on  his  shoulders. 

Abd-el-Atti  proceeded,  in  the  fashion  of  the  East,  to 
take  the  testimony  in  the  case,  and  I observed  him  for 
three  days  sitting  all  day  long,  or  always  when  I was  at 
home,  near  the  tent,  with  a crowd  around  him,  taking  the 
evidence  that  the  nazir  had  refused  to  obey  the  letter, 
and  had  neglected  to  honor  the  firman  of  his  highness, 
the  viceroy,  of  which  I had  the  honor  to  be  the  bearer. 
All  this  produced  a sensation  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
on  the  arrival  of  Houssein  Kasheef  he  sent  for  Sheik  Ab- 
dallah, the  -sheik  of  Karnak,  and  between  them  they  ar- 
ranged the  afiair,  and  sent  down  to  us  to  beg  us  to  fix 
another  day.  Accordingly  we  named  another  day,  and 
on  the  morning  thereof  we  saw  a very  difierent  looking 
place  when  we  returned  from  an  early  canter  to  Karnak. 
The  broad  space  which  lies  between  the  temple  and  the 
river’s  edge,  and  which  contains  some  ten  acres,  more  or 
less,  of  dry  dusty  soil,  was  covered  by  Arab  horsemen  in 
gay  dresses,  and  the  scene  was  altogether  one  of  the  most 
lively  and  inspiriting  that  could  well  be  imagined.  Hous- 
sein Kasheef  and  Sheik  Abdallah  had  done  their  utmost, 
and  every  village  and  camp  within  twenty  miles  had 
turned  out  its  finest  horsemen  and  best  horses. 

The  Jereed  play  has  been  an  ancient  amusement  in 
eastern  countries,  having  some  resemblance  to  the  tourna- 
ment of  the  middle  ages.  The  horsemen  who  formerly 
rode  with  tilting  lances,  and  sometimes  fought  with  them 
even  to  the  death,  adopted  a less  dangerous  weapon,  and 
were  accustomed  in  these  tournays  to  use  the  long,  slen- 
der, and  graceful  branch  or  leaf-stem  of  the  date  palm- 


A SPIRITED  SCENE. 


399 


tree.  But  this  was  not  a harmless  toy  thrown  from  the 
hands  of  a strong  and  skillful  man ; so  that  the  govern- 
ment, finding  that  jirivate  malice  not  infrequently  took 
advantage  of  the  public  games  to  infiict  terrible  wounds, 
forbade  the  Jereed,  as  it  was  called,  and  the  riders  were 
left  to  use  such  light  and  harmless  weapons  as  they  could 
jirocure,  if  they  desired  to  contmue  their  sport.  An  ex- 
cellent substitute  was  found  in  the  long  and  light  stalks 
of  the  Indian  corn,  which  grow  to  a very  great  height  in 
Egypt,  and  which  furnish  a lance,  or  the  imitation  of  a 
lance,  ten  feet  in  length.  Each  horseman  carries  half  a 
dozen,  as  the  Arab  horsemen  were  at  one  time  accustomed 
to  carry  lances  or  darts. 

Over  a hundred  horses  were  gathered  on  the  plam  of 
Luxor.  How  they  rode,  how  one  would  dash  out  from 
the  ranks,  and  fly  like  the  wind  across  the  plain,  throw 
his  steed  on  his  haunches,  while  he  shook  his  lance  in  the 
air,  then  leap  forward  with  a shout,  and  return  to  the 
ranks  with  his  burnoose  streaming  in  the  wind ; how  a 
dozen,  with  flying  garments  and  wild  cries,  would  follow, 
and  a dozen  more  give  chase,  and  advance,  retreat,  fly 
and  pursue,  mimic  the  battle-scene,  the  attack,  the  flerce 
thrust,  the  parry,  the  steady  backward  retreat  when  hard 
pressed,  leap  by  leap,  the  gallant  horse  and  rider  facing 
steadily  the  three-fold  force  of  the  enemy ; how  they 
divided  their  ranks,  and  placing  half  on  each  side  of  the 
plain,  under  old  leaders,  advanced  at  a fierce  gallop,  and 
met  in  the  centre  before  us,  with  hundreds  of  lances  fly- 
ing through  the  dusty  air,  and  shouts  as  if  the  conquered 
of  the  Battle  of  the  Pyramids  were  all  there ; how  they 
wheeled  and  advanced,  retreated  and  plunged  forward, 
until  the  fray  became  a confused  mass  and  the  dust  cov- 
ered them,  and  then  out  of  the  cloud 

“ Fast,  fast,  with  wild  heels  spurning, 

The  dark  gray  charger  fled,” 


400 


GH  AWAZEE. 


and  Sheik  Hassan,  of  Goornou,  lay  rolling  on  the  plain  ; 
how  when  the  fray  became  thickest,  and  the  shouts  most 
furious,  and  we  heard  some  sounds  which  seemed  to  indi- 
cate that  there  Avas  a groAving  seriousness  in  the  fun  that 
might  result  unpleasantly,  and  Houssein  Kasheef  rushed 
doAAm  the  slope  on  foot  and  vanished  in  the  melee  ; hoAv 
at  this  instant  there  came  a storm  of  Avind,  a Avhirling 
blast  from  its  desert  home,  tempted,  doubtless,  by  the 
combat  on  the  plain,  and  gathering  up  the  dust,  noAV 
beaten  to  poAvder  by  the  horses’  hoofs,  SAvept  over  all  in 
the  grandeur  of  a sand-storm,  and  drove  horsemen,  and 
horses,  and  IIoAvajji  ingloriously  from  the  field ; all  this, 
alas,  there  Avas  no  troubadour  to  sing,  and  posterity  must 
remain  ignorant  of. 

In  the  evening  after  the  Jereed  performance,  several  of 
the  Ghawazee  came  down  to  the  boat  hoping  to  induce 
us  to  engage  their  services  for  an  exhibition,  AAdiich  we 
had  hitherto  refused  to  do,  and  still  continued  to  refuse. 

The  Ghawazee  have  been  celebrated  by  Egyptian  traA’^- 
elers  in  numberless  chapters;  and  there  is  scarcely  a book 
on  Egypt  Avhich  does  not  contain  more  or  less  poetry  on 
their  beauty  and  gracefulness.  Most  Avriters  follow  a 
tradition,  founded  on  a decree  of  Mohammed  Ali,  and 
locate  the  GhaAvazee  at  Esne  ; but  this,  like  their  beauty 
and  their  grace,  is  very  much  in  the  imagination  of  the 
traveler ; for  though  banished  to  Esne  Avhen  they  became 
too  plenty  in  Cairo,  they  were  allowed  to  consider  Esne 
as  reaching  from  Cairo  to  the  first  cataract,  and  they  are 
to  be  found  every  Avhere  betAveen  the  tAvo  places,  and 
chiefly  at  Luxor.  Some  of  them  retain  traces  of  the  tra- 
ditional beauty  of  their  race  ; but  by  far  the  most  of 
them  are  miserable  drabs,  and  hopelessly  degraded. 

The  two  girls  who  came  doAvn  to  the  boat  Avere  fair 
specimens  of  the  class ; one  of  them  held  a species  of 
banjo  or  guitar  in  her  lap,  on  Avhich  she  beat  a sort  of 


A LADDER. 


401 


tune,  while  the  other  danced  slowly,  and  with  some  de- 
gree of  skill,  to  the  measure.  Their  taste  in  dress  was  far 
above  the  ordinary  run  of  women  in  Egypt ; for  the  na- 
tives of  the  lower  classes,  as  I have  already  stated,  wear 
but  a single  long,  loose  garment,  while  these  girls  were 
loaded  with  the  usual  full  dress  of  the  lady  of  the  hareem. 

But  receiving  neither  bucksheesh  nor  prospect  of  en- 
gagement for  a dance  on  deck,  or  in  the  room  of  the  old 
house  where  they  had  j^erformed  the  evening  previous  for 
a European  nobleman  and  lady,  they  retired  in  disgust, 
and,  I am  sorry  to  say,  left  us  with  very  similar  impres- 
sions regarding  them.  They  were  like  a hundred  others 
that  I saw  in  Egypt ; and,  out  of  Cairo,  I think  none  beb 
ter  are  to  be  seen. 

The  last  day  of  my  stay  at  Thebes  arrived.  Before 
breakfast  I crossed  to  the  island  and  shot  a dozen  pige- 
ons, and  knocked  over  a fox  that  looked  impudently  at 
me  out  of  the  edge  of  a corn-field,  as  if  he  did  not  believe 
in  lead  and  charcoal.  ' • 

Pigeon  shooting  in  Egypt  no  traveler  will  pursue  except 
for  the  purpose  of  supplying  his  table.  There  is  no  sport 
in  knocking  over  these  tame  birds,  born  and  bred  in  the 
village  pigeon  houses. 

Away  across  the  river,  on  the  broad  plain,  Memnon  sat 
silent  and  majestic  on  his  throne,  lord  of  all  the  upper 
country ; and  it  behooved  me  to  take  leave  of  him  with 
due  solemnity  before  I should  go  northward. 

I sent  up  to  Houssein  Kasheef  for  a ladder.  A firman 
can  bring  out  of  a governor  in  Egypt  any  thing  that  is  in 
him.  He  had  never  heard  of  a ladder,  didn’t  know  what 
it  was.  But  his  highness  had  given  Braheem  Efiendi  a 
firman,  and  Braheem  Efiendi  wanted  a ladder  by  virtue 
of  the  firman,  and  a ladder  he  must  have.  Ko  one  in 
Egypt  ever  thought  of  climbing  any  thing  but  a palm- 
tree.  But  an  explanation  that  a ladder  meant  something 


402 


MUSIC  OF  MEMNON. 


to  help  a man  up  the  side  of  a house,  induced  some  one 
in  the  train  to  recollect  that  a French  explorer,  who  had 
been  some  time  resident  here  in  former  years,  had  used  a 
curious  combination  of  pieces  of  wood  for  such  purposes, 
and  it  was  forthwith  hunted  up.  They  found  it  in  the 
subterranean  chambers  of  the  Luxor  temple,  where  it  had 
been  used  in  copying  inscriptions.  It  was  about  ten  feet 
long,  and  likely  to  be  of  little  use  to  me ; but  I had  it 
brought  down  to  the  boat.  Miriam  and  myself  went  off 
together.  We,  hoisting  our  little  sail,  dashed  swiftly 
across  the  Nile,  to  the  west  bank,  where  our  donkeys 
were  standing,  and  then  across  the  plain  to  the  feet  of 
him  of  the  stony  eyes. 

Have  I or  have  I not  mentioned  what  every  one  ought 
to  know,  that  Memnon  is  one  of  two  statues  that  sit  side 
by  side,  between  whose  thrones  doubtless  an  avenue  once 
passed,  leading  to  the  great  burial-place,  which  is  a thou- 
sand yards  behind  them.  It  certainly  can  not  be  neces- 
sary for  me  to  inform  any  intelligent  reader  that  the 
statue  is  that  of  Amunoph  III.  At  what  period  it  was 
selected  as  vocal  and  superior  to  its  comj^anion,  we  know 
not. 

With  the  aid  of  my  ladder  we  mounted  easily  to  the 
pedestal  of  the  old  statue,  and  sat  down  between  his  feet. 
The  rock  of  which  he  is  made  is  full  of  beautiful  agates ; 
travelers  cut  these  out  for  ornaments  and  memorials. 

I wanted  to  climb  into  the  lap  of  the  statue,  and  exam- 
ine for  myself  the  sonorous  stone,  which,  being  struck, 
gives  out  the  sound  of  a bell.  This  is  by  some  supposed 
to  be  the  fabled  music  of  Memnon.  An  Arab  boy  w^ent 
up  like  a cat  and  disappeared  from  our  view.  A moment 
later  he  struck  the  stones,  first  one,  and  then  the  other. 
One  sounded  somewhat  like  a bell — very  little  like  it  in- 
deed— but  the  other  was  dull,  heavy,  and  like  striking  a 
blow  on  any  rock. 


MEMNON’S  LAP. 


403 


Mohammed  Hassan  held  me  on  his  shoulders  where, 
standing  up,  I could  reach  with  the  ladder  high  enough 
to  hang  the  upper  round  of  it  on  a projecting  j^oint  of 
the  rock  and  lift  myself  up  to  the  lower  round.  It  was 
not  a very  safe  climb  at  the  best.  As  I approached  the 
top  I found  that  the  round,  on  which  the  ladder  and  I 
hung,  was  nearly  cut  in  two,  and  the  chances  were  that  in 
thirty  seconds  more  I should  fall  thirty  feet,  as  dead  as 
Memnon.  I sprang  to  a projecting  corner  of  the  broken 
rock,  and  wedged  myself  in  the  huge  rift  that  was  made 
by  an  earthquake  in  ancient  days,  when  half  the  statue 
was  thrown  down.  Here  I found  that  my  chin  was  just 
above  the  edge  of  his  leg.  I could  look  into  the  chasm 
in  his  lap.  It  was  a hole  deep  and  broad  enough  to  hold 
three  or  four  men,  but  if  priests  lay  concealed  there,  as 
has  been  by  some  intimated,  the  question  is,  how  they 
got  there  and  got  away  again  without  being  seen.  For 
it  is  a clear  ca’se  that  no  one  could  effect  such  a lodg- 
ment and  escape  without  a ladder,  and  a longer  one  than 
I had. 

I saw  the  Arab  strike  the  stones,  but  I could  not  get 
into  the  lap  of  the  old  man  of  the  plain.  Perhaps  I could 
have  got  into  it,  but  how  to  get  out  of  it  again  was  the 
problem,  and  not  choosing  to  attempt  a practical  solution 
of  this  I stepped  back  to  the  ladder,  slipped  down  it,  as 
if  it  were  greased,  to  the  shining  shoulder  of  Mohammed, 
and  so  to  the  ground. 

Whether  it  was  an  earthquake,  or  the  destroying 
army  of  Darius  that  hurled  down  the  upper  portion  of 
the  statue  does  not  now  appear.  Probably  it  was  the 
Persian,  for  Memnon’s  companion  sits  monolithic  in  his 
ancient  seat,  undisturbed,  while  of  Memnon  all  the  body, 
shoulders,  and  head,  are  rebuilt  of  massive  hewn  stone. 
The  other  and  less  noted  statue  is  much  the  more  stately 
and  perfect  in  appearance.  But  no  tradition  has  hal- 


404 


HOUSSEIN  KASHEEF. 


lowed  him.  He  is  but  a carved  stone,  a rough  rock,  while 
his  old  friend  and  companion  of  stony  silence  for  so 
many  centuries  has  name  and  fame  in  history  and  story, 
and  is  known  to  the  very  children  of  remote  and  late 
born  nations. 

One  half  hour  to  stroll  among  the  stately  ruins  of  the 
Remeseion ; one  glance  over  the  white  hills  under  which 
lay  the  millions  of  Egyptian  dead,  and  then,  waving  our 
hands  to  the  old  watcher  for  the  sunrise,  we  left  him  to 
his  throne  and  kingdom. 

In  starry  nights  of  this  western  land  in  which  I now 
write,  I sometimes  bow  before  a solemn,  grand  thought. 
He  who  has  not  seen  Memnon  can  hardly  appreciate 
what  I mean.  It  is  the  thought  of  that  stately  old  giant, 
sitting  calmly  on  his  rocky  seat  now  as  for  thousands  of 
years,  while  dew  and  dawn  alternate  on  his  cold  brow. 

Old  Houssein  Kasheef  had  behaved  remarkably  well  in 
the  matter  of  the  Jereed  play,  and  every  day  after  that 
was  accustomed  to  come  down  early  in  the  morning,  sit 
on  the  sand  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  tent,  and  move  his 
seat  around  with  the  sun  till  evening,  when  he  joined  the 
group  within  it,  and  smoked  his  chibouk  in  solemn  quiet, 
wondering  at  the  furious  talk  of  the  assembled  Franks. 

I liked  him  from  the  first,  perhaps  because  he  was  so 
very  quiet.  He  never  disturbed  me.  If  I were  on  the 
lee  side  of  the  canvas  he  came  and  sat  down  quietly 
with  an  Arabic  good  morning,  and  smoked  the  pipe  of 
peace  in  silence.  Ilajji  Mohammed  never  needed  an 
order  to  send  up  coffee,  but  so  soon  as  the  old  man  made 
his  appearance  it  would  begin  to  come,  and  it  never 
stopped  coming  till  he  left  at  night.  He  transacted  all 
his  business  there,  received  and  answered  letters,  ex- 
amined prisoners,  and,  in  point  of  fact,  lived  there  alto- 
gether. The  quantities  of  coffee  that  he  consumed  in  a 
day’s  sitting  were  enormous. 


OLD  AND  LONELY. 


405 


I have  called  him  an  old  man.  He  was  about  seventy ; 
a small,  calm-faced  old  Turk,  with  a mild,  and  rather 
pleasant  countenance,  very  kind  disposition,  and,  as  I 
soon  learned,  very  poor.  The  house  which  he  occupied 
was  a miserable  mud  affair,  the  largest  in  Luxor  indeed, 
but  the  winds  howled  through  it  fiercely  and  furiously, 
and  it  was  destitute  of  furniture,  except  only  his  bedstead 
and  bedding,  on  which  he  reposed  his  weary  and  lone- 
some old  limbs  at  night.  . I shuddered  as  I thought  of  it 
one  day  in  his  dreary  room,  for  I had  begun  to  like  the 
old  man,  and  I feared  that  some  dismal  morning  they 
would  find  him  cold  and  stiff  on  the  split  reed  bedstead. 

“ Why  do  you  live  alone,  Houssein  Kasheef ?”  I asked 
him  one  day  between  two  pipes.  He  heard  me,  and 
when  Ferrajj  had  brought  back  my  chibouk,  fragrant  and 
fiery,  he  replied, 

“ Because  I can  not  afford  to  live  otherwise.” 

“ But  you  are  married.” 

“ Allah  be  thanked,  I have  one  wife  and  ten  children, 
at  Goos.” 

“ Why  not  here  ?” 

“ By  the  mercy  of  Allah,  and  the  grace  of  his  highness 
Mohammed  Ali  and  his  exalted  sons,  I have  been  gov- 
ernor at  Goos  for  nearly  twenty  years.  I have  lived  there 
since  I was  a man ; my  wife  has  always  lived  there,  and 
her  friends  are  all  there.  A year  ago  the  government 
adopted  a principle  of  changing  officers  from  place  to 
place.  A good  system ; but  it  tore  me  from  my  family. 
I could  not  bring  my  wife  and  children  here  to  this  mis- 
erable hole.  I left  them  at  Goos.  It  is  only  ten  hours 
from  here ; but  my  labors  are,  as  you  know,  very  ar- 
duous. I have  seen  my  wife  and  children  but  once.  When 
you  arrived,  O Braheem  Effendi,  I was  at  Goos.  I found 
them  all  living  and  well,  and  have  come  back.  I am  too 
poor  to  give  up  my  office.  I must  go  where  I am  or- 


406 


THE  LAST  EVENING. 


dered,  and  I expect  to  die  here.  Perhaps  I shall  never 
see  my  wife  again : Allah  be  merciful  to  us.” 

He  was  nearly  a half  hour  in  telling  me  this.  It  came 
out  briefly,  in  smoky  ejaculations.  I listened,  and  pitied 
him  from  my  soul. 

The  evening  of  our  departure  from  Thebes  was  one  of 
indescribable  beauty.  The  moon  lay  on  the  water  in 
silver  glory.  The  air  was  a dream  of  splendor.  The  tent 
was  struck  at  sunset,  and  the  deserted  shore  appeared 
more  lonely  than  ever.  The  Phantom  was  the  only  boat 
at  Luxor.  Every  thing  else  had  gone. 

Abd-el-Atti  had  been  making  a purchase  of  an  antique, 
on  his  own  account,  from  an  Arab  of  Goornou.  He  had 
learned  that  a mummy  of  the  most  ancient,  rare,  and 
valuable  kind,  had  been  found,  and  he  had  negotiated  for 
and  bought  it.  It  belonged  to  a company  of  more  than 
thirty  of  the  Goornou  resurrectionists,  and  they  would 
not  consent  to  bring  it  over  to  Luxor  to  the  boat,  lest 
they  should  be  caught  with  it  by  some  government  ofli- 
cer,  and  lose  mummy  and  some  of  their  own  skin  besides, 
a not  unusual  occurrence.  Therefore  the  dragoman  was 
puzzled  on  the  subject,  not  liking  to  lose  the  opportunity 
for  speculation,  and  not  knowing  how  to  avoid  it.  At 
length  he  was  relieved  by  this  plan.  He  directed  the 
Arabs  to  bring  down  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh  to  the 
shore  of  the  Nile,  three  miles  below  on  the  west  bank, 
near  a tree  which  we  all  knew,  at  midnight  on  the  night 
of  our  starting.  He  went  down  early  with  the  small  boat 
and  four  men  to  receive  the  freight.  On  our  appearance 
with  the  Phantom  he  was  to  board  us. 

Mustapha  and  Houssein  Kasheef  came  down  in  the 
evening,  and  sat  and  talked  till  nearly  midnight.  Mus- 
tapha had  a small  cannon,  presented  him  by  some  trav- 
eler who  had  carried  it  for  saluting  purposes,  to  which  he 
zealously  applies  it,  and  lie  had  loaded  it  to  the  muzzle  for 


THE  SURLY  NAZIR. 


407 


a grand  discharge  on  our  departure.  But  I determined 
to  send  him  off  quietly  to  bed  with  the  idea  that  we  would 
not  go  till  morning,  and  let  him  save  his  gunpowder. 

As  the  evening  wore  on,  and  we  still  sipped  our  coffee 
and  smoked,  while  the  candles  burned  dimly  on  the  table, 
a messenger  came  in  and  whispered  to  Mustapha.  He 
went  out,  and  was  gone  half  an  hour.  When  he  came 
back,  he  had  something  on  his  mind,  and  at  length  it  came 
out. 

“ Would  Braheem  Effendi  consent  to  be  reconciled  with 
Islamin  Bey,  the  nazir,  before  leaving  Luxor  ?” 

Of  course  he  would.  If  the  nazir  would  for  once  be 
decent,  and  come  down  to  the  boat,  he  should  have  pipes 
and  coffee,  and  a gentleman’s  reception. 

Mustapha  vanished.  He  came  back  soon  afterward 
with  downcast  countenance,  and  told  us  the  nazir  was 
quite  sick  and  couldn’t  come. 

I told  Abd-el-Atti,  privately,  to  ascertain  if  it  was  true, 
and  at  length  I learned  the  fact  that  the  surly  dog  had 
told  Mustapha  briefly,  in  reply  to  his  invitation,  that  we, 
our  illustrious  selves — two  American  pashas,  of  brilliant 
rank,  worthy  unbounded  honors  and  admiration,  to  say 
nothing  of  our  wives — might  go  to  the  devil ; that  was 
the  long  and  the  short  of  it. 

Houssein  Kasheef  shrugged  his  old  shoulders,  and  gath- 
ered his  robes  about  him  to  be  gone. 

“ I hope  when  I come  back  to  Luxor  I shall  see  you 
here  yet  my  old  friend.” 

“ Ah,  if  you  wish  me  any  thing,  wish  that  I may  be  at 
Goes,  or  dead ; don’t  wish  me  long  life  at  Luxor.” 

“ If  I could  ask  Abd-el-Kader  to  remove  you  to 
Goos — ” 

“ I would  take  you  up  on  my  head,  and  carry  you  to 
see  every  ruin  in  Egypt,  could  you  but  get  me  leave  to 
die  at  Goos.” 


408 


LEAVING  THEBES. 


So  we  parted.  The  old  man  looked  sorrowfully  back  • 
at  the  cabin,  as  he  left  it  for  his  own  miserable  quarters ; 
and  I thought  then  that  he  would  remember  us  with  some 
pleasure.  It  was  a gratification  afterward  to  give  him 
cause  to  remember  us  when  he  dies  among  his  kindred. 

Midnight  was  at  hand.  The  moonlight  lay  like  a dream 
of  beauty  on  the  river  and  on  the  ruins.  Through  the 
vast  corridor  of  the  temple  a broad  pathway  of  silver 
light  came  down,  that  made  Mustapha’s  house  seem  like 
another  Bethel  at  the  foot  of  a heavenward  way. 

I sat  alone  in  the  cabin  of  the  Phantom.  The  others 
were  sound  asleep,  dreaming,  I doubt  not,  of  home. 

'When  I came  out  on  deck,  the  crew  were  lying  here 
and  there  like  so  many  piles  of  cloth,  giving  signs  of 
animation  only  in  the  long  regular  heaving  of  each  mass. 

I stirred  them  up  gently,  making  as  little  noise  as  pos- 
sible, and  ordered  them  to  be  as  quiet.  I did  not  wish 
to  wake  Mustapha’s  cannon.  They  moved  about  like 
ghosts  on  the  moonlit  shore,  casting  otf  the  fasts.  I 
took  my  place  on  the  upper  deck  as  usual,  and  gave  my 
orders  in  pantomime,  for  the  lowest  utterance  of  the 
human  voice  echoed  from  the  magnificent  corridor  in 
which  Mustapha  was  sleeping. 

The  Phayitom  drifted  slowly  out  into  the  current  of 
the  river.  As  she  went  out  of  the  bight  or  bay  in  which 
we  had  been  lying,  the  current  took  her  and  she  shot 
downward. 

All  was  still.  Moonlight  lay  on  the  temple  and  on  the 
shore.  The  tall  group  of  palms,  nearest  to  the  mound  on 
which  we  had  buried  poor  Tonge,  lifted  their  branches 
calmly  into  the  glory  of  the  moonlight.  There  my  eye 
was  fixed  longer  than  elsewhere,  and  looking  there  I for- 
got to  look  at  the  temple,  and  so  before  I knew  it  we 
were  away  from  Thebes,  and  all  danger  of  rousing  the 
echoes  of  the  palace  with  Egyptian  gunpowder  was  gone. 


PHARAOH’S  DAUGHTER. 


409 


•“Shil!” 

They  were  ready,  every  man  at  his  oar,  and  at  the 
word  the  fourteen  oars  struck  the  plashing  water  to- 
gether, and  the  Phantom  flew  down  the  river. 

We  coasted  the  western  shore.  IN’ear  the  large  tree 
that  was  the  old  landing  place  on  that  bank,  they  lay  on 
their  oars,  and  I looked  ahead  on  the  moonlit  shore  for 
some  indication  of  Abd-el-Atti  with  his  companion  of 
Pharaonic  days.  There  was  a small  grove  of  trees  not 
far  below  us  which  was  the  appointed  place  of  meeting, 
and  here  I saw  something  which  looked  like  the  small 
boat.  The  shore  was  three  hundred  feet  broad,  and  the 
moonlight  lay  across  it,  making  it  appear  as  white  as 
snow,  while  on  the  bank  above  there  was  a grove  of  trees. 
From  this,  as  we  approached,  a group  of  fifteen  men  sud- 
denly emerged  into  the  moonlight,  bearing  something 
heavy,  with  which  they  hastened  across  the  open  beach 
to  the  boat.  Then,  retiring  a few  paces,  they  stood  in  a 
row,  while  the  boat  pushed  ofi*  and  joined  us  as  we  drift- 
ed by. 

“ N"ow — all  together,  men.  Lift  carefully  and  slowly. 
So  she  comes !”  and  the  princess  or  priestess  was  hoisted 
to  the  cabin  deck  and  laid  on  one  of  our  vacant  sofas, 
covered  with  canvas  and  blankets  to  hide  her  from  cu- 
rious eyes,  and  the  men  again  lay  down  to  their  oars. 

We  swept  close  in  shore  by  the  row  of  silent  Arabs  ; 
the  Goornou  resurrectionists’  guttural  “ Salaam  Aleikoum,” 
came  to  us  as  we  went  along,  and  they  retired  into  the 
grove. 

So  the  daughter  of  the  Pharaoh  (who  dares  say  she 
was  not  the  daughter  of  Amunoph  himself?)  commenced 
her  voyage  from  her  ancient  resting  place  and  the  graves 
of  her  fathers.  Three  thousand  years  of  repose — then, 
the  Nile-boat  of  a wandering  Howajji — then,  a curiosity- 
room  in  Cairo — and  then  the  sea,  the  Pillars  of  Hercules, 

18 


410 


M E M N O N . 


the  Fortunate  Islands,  and  a new  world ! There  is  verily 
no.  rest  even  in  an  Egyptian  grave.  This  royal  lady  slept 
quietly  on  our  cabin  deck  during  the  voyage  down  the 
river,  and  Abd-el-Atti  transferred  her  to  Dr.  Abbott  at 
Cairo,  who,  I suppose,  will  ship  her  to  enrich  the  collec- 
tion in  New  York. 


38. 

Jui-liisl?  obi  eh] 

I SLEPT  251’ofomidly.  It  was  hard  to  sleep  on 
such  nights.  I often  lay  all  night  on  deck  doz- 
ing and  dreaming  till  morning. 

The  next  afternoon,  at  sunset,  we  reached  the 
landing  place  of  Gheneh,  I had  promised  Abd- 
el-Kader  Bey  that  I would  not  go  down  the 
river  without  seeing  him.  The  temple  of  Dendera,  on 
the  opposite  shore  of  the  river,  was  by  no  means  to  be 
omitted. 

The  same  moonlight  fell  on  the  river  and  land  again. 

o o 

At  eight  or  nine  o’clock  the  barking  of  foxes  on  shore 
tempted  me  out  with  my  gun.  The  boat  lay  on  the  west 
side  of  what  is  at  high  Xile  an  island,  but  was  now  con- 
nected with  Gheneh  by  the  broad  sandy  bed  of  a dry 
branch  of  the  river.  In  the  upper  part  of  this  ,bed  lay  a 
lake  of  water  extending  dovui  nearly  abreast  of  our  land- 
ing-place in  a narrow  canal-like  strip.  Between  us  and 
this  was  the  high  land  of  the  island,  and  on  this  I heard 
the  cry  of  the  jackals. 

Starting  quietly  along  through  the  corn  I came  out  in 
an  open  place  where  I could  look  five  hundred  feet  be- 
tween two  rows  of  standing  doura.  I saw  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  row  three  foxes  amusing  themselves  very 
pleasantly  in  the  moonshine.  It  was  a pity  to  spoil  their 


412 


DUCKS  AND  FOXES. 


sport,  but  I wanted  specimens,  for  as  yet  I had  not  found 
out  whether  there  was  any  difference  between  the  fox 
and  the  jackal. 

I knocked  over  two  of  them — one  with  each  barrel. 
As  the  echo  died  away  I heard  a twittering  and  rushing 
of  wings  in  the  lake  and  the  canal  below  me,  which 
showed  that  there  was  game  there  and  in  quantity. 

I reloaded  and  slipped  down  the  bank  to  the  edge  of 
the  water.  All  was  still.  Sundry  dark  spots  seemed  like 
the  ducks  I was  after,  but  I was  uncertain  whether  they 
were  not  low  grass  hummocks.  As  I approached  the 
edge  of  the  water,  creeping  on  hands  and  knees,  I heard 
a step  crushing  the  corn  on  the  hill  above  me,  and  the 
next  instant  two  barrels  of  a heavy  ducking  gun  sent 
down  a load  of  lead  into  the  water,  directly  in  front 
of  me. 

Abd-el-Atti,  hearing  my  shots  at  the  foxes,  had  come 
out  to  my  aid,  and  not  finding  me  had  poured  down  these 
loads  on  the  water  among  the  feathered  animals. 

The  cloud  of  birds  that  rose  from  the  water  was  arctic 
in  its  vastness  and  thickness.  Thousands  of  the  duck 
kind  filled  the  air.  My  two  barrels  sent  some  hundreds  of 
shot  into  the  cloud  and  brought  down  nearly  a dozen 
splashing  in  the  bright  water. 

Abd-el-Atti  was  surprised.  He  had  no  idea  that  I was 
near  him.  The  game  circled  awhile  with  loud  cries  in  the 
air ; then,  as  we  lay  motionless,  and  they  could  not  see 
us,  they  settled  again  on  the  water,  and  we  loaded  and 
fired  again.  One  barrel  raised  them,  and  the  other  three 
made  terrible  havoc  in  them  as  they  spread  their  wings. 
I never  saw  such  duck  shooting,  and  I have  had  much  of 
that  sport  from  the  Chesapeake  to  Montauk.  It  was  ab- 
solute murder.  After  we  had  fairly  scattered  the  flocks 
and  driven  them  over  into  the  Nile,  we  laid  down  our 
guns  and  clothes  and  went  in  after  our  game.  They  lay 


THE  KORAN. 


413 


on  the  water  in  all  directions,  and  it  was  with  much  diffi- 
culty we  gathered  them.  But  it  was  a glorious  bath  in 
the  cool  soft  water,  with  such  a sky  and  such  a night 
over  us. 

I owe  much  to  Abd-el-Kader.  I would  not  have  gone 
by  without  seeing  him,  had  I not  promised  him  to  stop, 
for  he  was  the  most  accomplished  Egyptian  that  I had 
met. 

He  heard  that  I had  arrived,  and  early  in  the  morning 
his  chief  of  the  household  was  down  with  horses  and  an 
invitation  to  the  governor’s  residence.  I rode  up.  He  was 
in  his  cool  small  reception-room,  with  the  same  four  ebony 
boys  that  waited  on  him  when  I went  up  the  river. 

We  had  sherbet  and  pipes  and  coffee,  while  he  finished 
his  morning’s  business,  heard  a few  petitioners,  and  re- 
ceived reports  of  his  soldiers.  Then  we  retired  to  a small 
and  somewhat  more  cozy  cabinet,  where,  lying  on  soft 
cushions,  we  smoked  and  talked  as  the  morning  slipped 
away. 

“ What  think  you,  O Abd-el-Kader,  is  the  first  duty  of 
a man  in  his  worldly  affairs  ?”  said  I. 

“ The  Koran  saith  the  first  duty  of  a man  is  to  his 
family.” 

“Yea,  truly;  and  if  the  government  so  order  that  a 
man  may  not  do  his  duty  to  his  family  ?” 

“ The  government  doth  wrong.” 

“My  old  friend,  Houssein  Kasheef,  of  Luxor,  has  a 
family  at  Goos^,but  Latif  Pasha  and  Abd-el-Kader  Bey 
have  separated  him  from  his  family  and  sent  him  to  Luxor 
to  be  old  and  cold  and  die.  Send  him  back  to  his  family.” 

My  friend  waved  his  hand  to  a scribe  or  secretary,  who 
stood  just  outside  the  open  door,  and  spoke  a few  words 
to  him  before  he  replied  to  me. 

“The  government  have  thought  a rotation  in  office  the 
better  plan.  When  a governor  resides  long  in  one  place 


414 


HOUSSEIN  KASHEEF  SENT  HOME. 


he  becomes  acquainted  with  the  people,  and  is  too  apt  to 
favor  certain  persons,  j^erhaps  to  accept  bribes  from  them. 
It  is  better  to  change  once  in  a while.  Houssein  Kasheef 
has  been  very  long  at  Goos.” 

“ Yes,  but  he  is  old ; he  ought  not  to  be  separated  from 
his  wife  and  children.  He  is  faithful  to  the  government, 
is  he  not  ?” 

“ Always.  But  he  will  learn  new  things  at  Luxor,  and 
soon  like  it and  so  he  continued  for  a few  minutes  to 
combat  my  wishes,  very  gently  indeed,  until  the  secretary 
reappeared  with  a written  order,  to  which  the  governor 
affixed  his  seal,  and  then  puffed  his  chibouk  quietly,  and 
enjoyed  my  surprise  and  pleasure,  his  own  flashing  out 
of  his  fine  eyes,  as  his  scribe  handed  the  paper  to  me. 

It  was  an  order  appointing  old  Houssein  to  Goos  as  I 
had  requested.  He  gave  it  to  me  that  I might  have  the 
pleasure  of  forwarding  it  to  the  old  man  myself.  This  I 
did  without  delay,  and  at  Cairo  I received  a reply  from 
him,  full  of  gratitude,  promising  to  remember  Americans 
thenceforth  forever. 

I 2^assed  the  day  with  my  kind  host,  enjoying  the  lux- 
ury of  fruits  and  coffee,  delicious  Latakea,  and  pleasant 
talk.  I told  him  stories  of  home,  of  hunting  in  American 
forests,  of  the  chase  on  the  Delaware,  and  the  buffalo  on 
the  jDrairie.  He  in  return  told  me  of  Mohammed  Ali,  for 
whom  he  had  a son’s  affection.  He,  when  a boy,  was  a 
slave  of  that  prince,  had  been  by  him  educated  in  arts 
and  arms,  and  he  remembered  him  with  a devotion  that 
was  admirable.  Many  stories  of  what  he  thought  the 
greatest  glory  of  Egypt  he  told  me  that  I would  gladly 
relate  here  if  I had  space. 

Toward  evening  I left  him.  He  despatched  a servant 
for  a branch  of  an  orange  tree,  bearing  two  s]flendid 
oranges,  which  he  sent  with  his  compliments  to  the 
ladies. 


D E X D E R A . 


415 


In  the  twilight  I strolled  through  the  bazaars  at  Ghe- 
neh,  crowded  wdth  Ababdee  Arabs,  carrying  huge  heads 
of  matted  hair,  some  curled  in  masses  of  pipe-stem  curls, 
and  some  hideously  filthy.  At  the  corners  were  many 
dark-eyed  Ghawazee,  with  white  complexions  and  lithe 
forms  carefully  exposed  to  view.  One,  a fair-faced  girl 
with  flashing  black  eyes,  who  hung  close  to  me  as  I 
bought  some  perfume  at  a drug  shop,  and  held  out  her 
tattooed  hand  to  be  touched  with  the  fi’agrant  oil,  had 
been  of  rare  beauty,  but  was  now  sadly  faded.  There 
was  a peculiarity  about  her  face  that  attracted  my  atten- 
tion. It  was  so  very  American.  In  home-costume  I 
should  have  taken  her  for  a heart-broken  N"ew  England 
girl.  Her  complexion  was  whiter  than  the  ordinary  com- 
plexion of  a New  York  lady’s  face,  even  than  a blonde, 
and  I started  when  I first  saw  her,  and  wondered  what 
girl  could  have  been  left  by  a traveler’s  boat  to  shame  and 
misery  in  this  far  city. 

Next  day,  I walked  from  the  river  to  the  temple  at- 
Dendera,  shooting  over  the  plain.  Pigeons  were  plenty, 
and  I killed  a fox.  The  temple  is  of  modern  times.  We 
call  things  old,  not  from  actual  age,  but  in  comparison. 
Old  for  a man  is  young  for  a tree,  but  old  for  a tree  is  young 
for  a temple.  This  temple  that  was  built  in  the  days  of 
Cleopatra,  and  has  a portrait  of  her  on  its  walls,  is  of  little 
interest  in  comparison  wdth  those  that  were  built  in  the 
days  of  Jacob  or  Moses.  It  is  in  very  perfect  preserva- 
tion, and  we  wandered  from  room  to  room  for  hours. 
The  great  zodiac  on  the  ceiling  of  the  corridor  remains 
there  still,  but  a smaller  one  from  one  of  the  smaller 
rooms  has  been  removed  to  Paris.  I shall  not  weary  my 
reader,  who  is  already  sutficiently  be-templed,  with  any 
sketch  of  the  group  at  Dendera.  The  capitals  of  the 
columns  of  the  great  corridor,  w^hich  are  in  fact  four-faced 
heads  of  goddesses,  have  been  often  described  and  en- 


416 


A PRESENT. 


graved,  as  also  the  grotesque  figures  on  the  smaller  tem- 
ple. We  should  have  remained  here  all  day,  but  for  an 
engagement  to  review  Abd-el-Kader’s  troops  at  Gheneh, 
and  we  returned  to  the  river,  crossed,  and  went  up  to 
the  palace. 

The  troops  were  altogether  the  best  disciplined  body 
of  men  that  I saw  in  the  East,  and  Abd-el-Kader  prided 
himself  much  on  them.  They  went  through  the  evolu- 
tions with  precision,  uttering  at  each  order  or  motion  a 
guttural  liugli^  like  a North  American,  Indian’s  expression 
of  surprise,  which  enabled  them  to  keep  perfect  time. 

We  had  coffee  and  pipes  again  in  the  cool  reception 
room,  and  Miriam  honored  his  magnificent  amber  and 
diamond  mouth-piece  with  the  touch  of  her  lips.  He 
presented  her  with  a bowl,  made  from  the  horn  of  a rhi- 
noceros, a rare  and  costly  present,  and  one  most  highly 
prized  among  the  Orientals.  This  bowl  (a  rhinoceros  fur- 
nishes but  one  as  large  as  this)  it  is  said  has  a power  of 
• detecting  poison,  so  that  none  can  be  administered  or 
taken  in  it.  It  will  fly  to  pieces  on  the  touch  of  poison, 
if  its  fabled  virtue  is  true. 

When  we  returned  to  the  boat,  he  had  sent  down  a 
quantity  of  presents  in  the  usual  style,  among  which  the 
most  curious  were  a large  variety  of  fowls,  known  only 
at  D end  era. 


Jl]e  CrocoOile^it^- 

I PAUSED  a day  at  Es  Siout  and  then 
went  on  to  Macibdeli^  on  the  east  bank  of 
the  river,  about  five  miles  above  Manfa- 
loot.  Here  we  found  ourselves,  one  morning,  on  awak- 
ing. 

Maabdeh  is  not  the  site  of  an  ancient  city.  But  it  is 
the  nearest  point  on  the  river  to  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able of  the  ancient  catacombs  of  Egypt.  Seven  miles 
from  the  shore,  beyond  the  eastern  mountains,  are  the 
celebrated  crocodile  pits,  vrhich  many  travelers  have 
attempted  to  explore.  Xone,  I think,  have  succeeded  as 
thoroughly  as  myself. 

These  pits  have  their  chief  celebrity,  in  modern  times, 
from  the  difiiculty  which  travelers  have  experienced  in 
entering  them,  and  the  fatality  that  attended  Mr.  Legh’s 
attempt.  As  his  account  has  hitherto  been  most  relied 
on  for  description  of  the  pits,  I give  an  extract  from  it, 
that  it  may  be  compared  with  my  own. 

He  proceeds  as  follows  (I  condense  the  statement 
somewhat.) 

“ We  formed  a party  of  six  ; each  was  to  be  preceded 
by  a guide.  Our  torches  were  lighted  ; one  of  the  Arabs 

* Narrative  by  Thomas  Legb,  Esq.,  M.  P.  Philadelphia  Edition, 
1817.  Page  148,  etc. 

IS* 


418 


MR.  LEGH’S  ACCOUNT. 


led  the  way,  and  I followed  him.  W e crept  for  seven  or 
eight  yards  through  an  openmg  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit, 
which  was  partly  choked  up  with  the  drifted  sand  of  the 
desert,  and  found  ourselves  in  a large  chamber  about  fif- 
teen feet  high.  Here  we  observed  fragments  of  the  mum- 
mies of  crocodiles ; we  saw  also  great  numbers  of  bats 
flying  about,  and  hanging  from  the  roof  We  now  en- 
tered a low  gallery,  in  which  we  continued  for  more  than 
an  hour,  stooping  or  creeping  as  was  necessary,  and  fol- 
lowing its  windings,  till  at  last  it  o|3ened  into  a large 
chamber,  which,’  after  some  time,  we  recognized  as  the 
one  we  had  first  entered.  Our  guides  at  last  confessed 
they  had  missed  their  way,  but  if  we  would  make  another 
attempt,  they  would  undertake  to  conduct  us  to  the  mum- 
mies. W e had  been  wandering  for  more  than  an  hour,  in 
low  subterranean  passages,  and  felt  considerably  fatigued 
by  the  irksomeness  of  the  posture  in  which  we  had  been 
obliged  to  move,  and  the  heat  of  our  torches  in  the  nar- 
row and  low  galleries  ; but  the  Arabs  spoke  so  confidently 
of  succeeding  in  this  second  trial,  that  we  were  induced 
once  more  to  attend  them.  We  found  the  opening  of  the 
chamber  which  we  now  approached,  guarded  by  a trench 
of  unknown  depth,  and  wide  enough  to  require  a good 
leap.  The  first  Arab  jumped  the  ditch,  and  we  all  fol- 
lowed him.  The  passage  we  entered  was  extremely  small, 
and  so  low  in  some  places  as  to  oblige  ns  to  crawl  flat  on 
the  ground,  and  almost  always  on  our  hands  and  knees. 
The  intricacies  of  its  windings  resembled  a labryinth,  and 
it  terminated  at  length  in  a chamber  much  smaller  than 
that  which  Ave  had  left,  but  like  it  containing  nothing  to 
satisfy  our  curiosity.  Our  search  hitherto  had  been  fruit- 
less, but  the  mummies  might  not  be  far  distant ; another 
efibrt  and  we  might  still  be  successful. 

“ The  Arab  Avhom  I followed,  and  who  led  the  Avay, 
now  entered  another  gallery,  and  we  all  continued  to 


MR.  LEGH’S  ACCOUNT. 


419 


move  in  the  same  manner  as  before,  eacli  preceded  by  a 
guide.  We  had  not  gone  far  before  the  heat  became  ex- 
cessive ; I found  my  breathing  extremely  difficult ; my 
head  began  to  ache  most  violently,  and  I had  a most  dis- 
tressing sensation  of  fullness  about  the  heart.  We  felt 
we  had  gone  too  far,  and  yet  were  almost  deprived  of  the 
power  to  return.  At  this  moment  the  torch  of  the  first 
Arab  went  out ; I was  close  to  him  and  saw  him  fall  on 
his  side  ; he  uttered  a groan  ; his  legs  were  strongly  con- 
vulsed, and  I heard  a rattling  noise  in  his  throat — he  was 
dead.  The  Arab  behind  me,  seeing  the  torch  of  his  com- 
panion extinguished,  and  conceiving  he  had  stumbled, 
passed  me,  advanced  to  his  assistance  and  stooped.  I 
observed  him  appear  faint,  totter,  and  fall  in  a moment : 
he  also  was  dead.  The  third  Arab  came  forward,  and 
made  an  effort  to  approach  the  bodies,  but  stopped  short. 
We  looked  at  each  other  in  silent  horror.  The  danger 
increased  every  instant ; our  torches  burned  faintly  ; our 
knees  tottered  under  us,  and  we  felt  our  strength  nearly 
gone.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

“ The  American  cried  to  us  to  take  courage,  and  we 
began  to  move  back  as  fast  as  we  could.  We  heard  the 
remaining  Arab  shouting  after  us,  calling  us  Kaffirs,  im- 
ploring our  assistance,  and  upbraiding  us  with  deserting 
him.  But  we  were  obliged  to  leave  him  to  his  fate,  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  share  it  with  him.  .The  wind- 
ings of  the  passage  through  which  we  had  come  increased 
the  difficulty  of  our  escape.  We  might  take  a wrong 
turn,  and  never  reach  the  great  chamber  we  had  first 
entered.  Even  supposing  we  took  the  shortest  road,  it 
was  but  too  probable  our  strength  would  fail  us  before 
we  arrived.  We  had  each  of  us  separately,  and  unknown 
to  one  another,  observed  attentively  the  different  shapes 
of -the  stones  which  projected  into  the  galleries  we  had 
passed,  so  that  each  had  an  imperfect  clue  to  the  laby- 


420 


MR.  LEGH’S  ACCOUNT. 


rintli  we  had  now  to  retrace.  'W e compared  notes,  and 
only  on  one  occasion  had  a dis|jute — the  American  differ- 
ing from  my  friend  and  myself.  In  this  dilemma  we 
were  determined  by  the  majority,  and  fortunately  were 
right.  Exhausted  with  fatigue  and  terror  we  reached 
the  edge  of  the  deep  trench,  which  remained  to  be 
crossed  before  we  got  into  the  great  chamber.  Muster- 
ing all  my  strength  I leaped,  and  was  followed  by  the 
American.  Smelt  stood  on  the  brink  ready  to  drop  with 
fatigue.  He  called  to  us,  for  God’s  sake,  to  help^  him 
over  the  fosse,  or  at  least  to  stop,  if  only  for  five 
minutes,  to  allow  him  time  to  recover  his  strength.  It 
Avas  impossible — to  stay  Avas  death — and  Ave  could  not 
resist  the  desire  to  push  on  and  reach  the  open  air.  AYe 
encouraged  him  to  summon  all  his  force,  and  he  cleared 
the  trench.  When  we  reached  the  open  air  it  was  one 
o’clock,  and  the  heat  in  the  sun  about  160°.  Our  sailors, 
Avho  Avere  Avaiting  for  us,  had  luckily  a bardak  full  of 
Avater,  Avhich  they  sprinkled  upon  us,  but,  though  a little 
refreshed,  it  was  not  possible  to  climb  the  sides  of  the 
pit.  They  then  unfolded  their  turbans,  and  slinging 
them  round  our  bodies,  drew  us  to  the  top.  Our  ap- 
pearance alone,  Avithout  our  guides,  naturally  astonished 
the  Arab  who  had  remained  at  the  entrance  of  the 
cavern,  and  he  anxiously  inquired  for  his  hahabebas  or 
friends.  To  have  confessed  they  Avere  dead  would  have 
excited  suspicion  of  our  haAung  murdered  them.  We  re- 
plied they  Avere  coming,  and  were  employed  in  bringing 
out  the  mummies  we  had  found.  We  lost  no  time  in 
mounting  our  asses,  re-crossed  the  desert,  and  passed 
hastily  by  the  village  to  regain  the  ferry  of  Manfalout. 
Our  kandjia  was  moored  close  to  the  toAvn,  and  we  got 
safe  on  board  by  five  o'clock.” 

Many  travelers  since  Mr.  Legh’s  time  have,  with  great 
justice,  condemned  him  for  deserting  his  men  under  such 


ROAD  TO  THE  PITS. 


421 


circumstances.  My  own  experience  in  these  pits  con- 
vinces me  that  he  was  decidedly  wwong.  The  account 
of  his  failure  and  that  of  subsequent  explorers  did  not 
deter  me  from  the  attempt  I now  proposed. 

Early  in  the  morning  I began  to  make  arrangements 
for  guides  among  the  villagers,  but  I found  great  diffi- 
culty m persuading  any  to  go  with  me.  The  reason  was 
not  that  given  by  Mr.  Legh,  fear  of  the  pits,  but  they 
said  that  we  must  pass  through  a village  near  the  mount- 
ains, where  the  inhabitants  would  assuredly  beat  them 
off  and  take  us  into  their  merciful  protection,  whereby 
they,  the  shore  guides,  would  lose  their  pay  beside 
getting  a thrashing.  It  was  only  on  assurance  of  pay, 
beating  or  no  beating,  that  I could  persuade  two  of 
them  to  go  with  me.  Abd-el-Atti  and  Abdallah,  one  of 
my  boat’s  crew,  the  two  guides  and  myself,  formed  the  party 
who  started  for  the  mountains,  crossing  the  largest  grain 
field  that  I have  seen  in  Egypt.  It  was  almost  prairie-like 
in  appearance,  being  three  miles  or  so  in  breadth,  and 
stretching  up  and  down  the  river  as  far  as  I could  see — one 
long  waving  field  of  green  wdieat  flashing  in  the  sunshine. 

Crossing  this  we  arrived  at  a narrow  branch  of  the 
Nile,  now  dry,  but  apparently  quite  recently  filled,  and 
near  this  a village,  the  one  of  which  our  guides  had  ex- 
pressed their  fear.  The  custom  wdiich  they  stood  in 
dread  of  is  said  to  be  prevalent  in  this  neighborhood, 
but  to  our  and  their  surprise  no  molestation  was  offered 
us  at  this  crossing,  the  men  of  the  village  being  absent  on 
some  prowling  expedition,  or  possibly  engaged  in  the 
fields.  Climbing  the  side  of  the  mountain,  w’hich  is  here 
not  more  than  six  hundred  feet  high,  consisting  of  beet- 
ling cliffs  of  white  rock  that  overhung  our  path,  and 
which  had,  in  Some  ancient  times,  been  quarried  for  the 
purposes  of  a city  now  wholly  gone,  we  arrived  on  the 
elevated  table-land  of  the  Arabian -desert. 


422 


THE  PARTY. 


Such  appears  to  be  the  character  of  the  land  on  both 
sides  of  the  Nile,  resembling  in  that  respect  portions  of 
the  upper  Mississippi.  The  valley  is  a deep  depression  or 
rift  in  a vast  table  of  high  land. 

We  had  still  some  miles  to  go.  I am  entirely  unable 
to  estimate  the  distance,  but  can  safely  say  that  it  was 
not  less  than  five  miles  from  the  landing  place,  in  all. 
Our  path  was  over  a sandy  soil,  with  broken  rocks  jutting 
out  here  and  there,  but  no  sign  of  vegetation  whatever 
visible.  The  peculiarity  of  it  was  a crystal  of  what  I 
suppose  to  be  gypsum  over  which  we  walked  all  the 
way.  My  feet  crushed  in  it  like  walking  on  dry  moss. 
Enormous  quantities  of  it,  thousands  of  bushels,  were 
on  the  surface  of  the  ground,  to  be  gathered  up  by  any 
one.  I know  not  what  commercial  value  it  has,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  a desirable  matter  to  be  examined  by 
some  one  interested  in  Egyptian  agriculture  if  in  nothing 
else. 

In  crossing  the  ^^lain  I had  been  overtaken  by  a party 
consisting  of  two  English  gentlemen,  their  dragoman  and 
a sailor  from  their  boat  with  a guide,  who  learning  of  our 
guarantee  had  consented  to  bring  them  along  and  take 
the  risk  of  passing  the  village  safely.  Their  boat  had 
arrived  just  as  I was  coming  away  from  mine. 

We  had  joined  forces  and  come  on  together,  presenting 
a formidable  array  which  it  required  some  courage  in  any 
party  of  Arabs  to  attack.  At  length  we  found  ourselves 
in  a water  shed  toward  the  east,  and  this  narrowed  to 
what  was  apparently  the  bed  of  a torrent,  finding  its  way 
downward  to  the  south-east,  the  hills  on  each  side  sloping 
toward  it. 

The  ground  was  still  covered  with  yellow  sand  but 
further  along  the  torrent  bed  was  bare ' gray  rock,  and 
now  the  guides  stopped. 

I saw  no  hole  or  entrance  till  I was  close  to  them. 


ENTRANCE. 


423 


They  paused  on  the  edge  of  a hole  in  the  sand,  about  six 
feet  long  by  four  wide  at  the  widest  end,  narrowing 
to  a point  at  the  other.  It  descended  perpendicularly 
about  ten  feet  to  a floor  of  sand.  Originally  it  was  much 
deeper,  but  the  sand  flowing  into  it  in  every  wind,  has 
filled  it  much.  It  is  only  marvelous  that  it  was  not  long 
ago  quite  filled.  There  was  nothing  outside  to  indicate 
its  existence.  IS’o  ruin,  nor  stone  ; persons  might  pass  a 
hundred  times  within  twenty  feet  of  it  and  not  see  it. 
The  sand  was  unbroken  to  its  very  edge. 

After  resting  a few  moments  I prepared  for  the  en- 
trance to  the  pit. 

As  it  was  by  no  means  certain  that  the  villagers  from 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  would  permit  us  to  finish  our  ex- 
amination unmolested,  aiid  as  Abd-el-Atti  now  strenuously 
objected  to  entering  the  hole  himself,  I left  him  sitting  on 
the  ground  at  the  entrance  with  the  sailor  from  the  other 
boat,  and  the  donkey-boys,  taking  Abdallah  with  me ; he 
seeming  very  willing  to  go  in,  and  not  at  all  influenced 
by  the  tales  of  horror  with  which  the  guides  had  amused 
us  along  the  way.  I took  off  all  the  clothes  that  I had 
worn  and  put  on  an  old  shirt  and  a pair  of  brown  linen 
pantaloons  of  the  coarsest  sort.  This  was  my  total  equip- 
ment. 

Having  no  coat  and  no  breast-pocket,  and  mindful  of 
the  disasters  which  had  occurred  to  various  .travelers 
solely  from  want  of  stimulants  in  this  cavern,  I put  my 
small  pocket  brandy-flask,  a glass  flask  covered  with 
wicker,  into  my  pantaloons  pocket,  each  of  us  having  in 
the  first  place  fortified  himself  with  a single  swallow  of 
the  liquor. 

The  descent  into  the  cavern  was  by  sitting  on  the 
edge,  swinging  off  with  one  hand  on  each  side  of  the 
hole,  and  dropping  into  the  depths  below,  where  a soft  bed 
of  sand  received  us,  in  a chamber  just  large  enough  to 


424 


FIRST  CHAMBER. 


hold  the  eight  persons  of  whom  the  party  consisted,  all 
standing  in  a stooping  posture  while  we  lighted  our  can- 
dles and  arranged  for  our  progress.  I tossed  my  tar- 
bouche  and  takea  up  to  Abd-el-Atti,  and  left  my  head 
bare.  Then,  following  the  principal  guide,  I lay  down  flat 
on  my  face,  holding  my  candle  before  me,  and  began  to 
advance  with  as  close  a resemblance  to  a snake’s  motion 
as  human  vertebrse  will  admit  of.  My  other  guide  and 
Abdallah  follow^ed  me  ; the  English  gentlemen  next,  and 
their  dragoman  and  guide  bringing  up  the  rear.  I pro- 
gressed slowly,  and  with  great  difficulty,  constantly 
bruising  my  back  on  the  sharp  points  of  the  rock  above 
me,  some  five  or  six  yards.  Legli  calls  it  eight,  but  I 
think  it  not  so  much.  We  were  now  able  to  stand  up 
again,  in  a stooping  posture,  the  ceiling  being  a little 
over  four  feet  high,  and  thus  advanced  eight  or  ten  yards 
further,  until  w^e  reached  the  chamber  of  which  Mr. 
Legh  speaks. 

I am  of  opinion  that  we  had  now  arrived  just  under  the 
bed  of  the  torrent  I have  spoken  of,  and  that  the  entire 
cavern,  wdiich  I afterward  explored,  is  a natural  fissure  in 
the  rock  running  under  this  point  of  meeting  of  tv/o  hills, 
and  following  the  line  of  the  valley  between  them.  This 
is,  of  course,  but  a conjecture,  as  I did  not  take  a com- 
pass with  me  to  determine  the  course. 

This  chamber  was  a small,  irregular,  cavernous  room, 
the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  shapeless  masses  of 
stone  that  had  fallen  from  the  roof.  Over  these  we  step- 
ped with  great  difficulty.  I need  not  remark  that  the 
darkness  was  profound,  and  the  air  already  became  so 
close  that  our  candles  burned  but  dimly,  so  that  each 
man  was  obliged  to  hold  his  O’wn  at  his  feet  to  determine 
where  to  set  them.  Crossing  the  room,  we  stepped 
over  a chasm  between  a mass  of  rock  and  the  wall  of  the 
chamber,  to  a point  in  the  wall,  w’hich  presented  a rag- 


THE  CAVERN. 


425 


ged  edge,  and  from  this  into  a narrow  doorway,  about 
four  feet  high.  I call  it  a doorway,  for  it  resembled  one, 
though  I could  find  no  signs  of  artificial  origin  about  it. 
It  was  almost  square,  and  opened  into  a sort  of  gallery, 
'the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  broken  rock,  and  in- 
terrupted by  huge  deep  fissures.  A ledge  at  the  side 
afforded  tolerable  walking  for  some  distance,  in  a stoop- 
ing posture ; and  then  we  again  lay  down  on  our  faces 
and  crawled  through  a passage  twenty  feet  in  length, 
entering  the  largest  chamber  in  the  pit.  It  was  a vast 
irregular  cavern,  perhaps  seventy  or  a hundred  feet  in 
diameter.  Entrance  to  it  was  almost  forbidden  by  clouds 
of  bats  that  met  me  in  the  narrow  passage  through  which 
I was  crawling,  dashing  into  my  face,  wounding  my  fore- 
head and  cheeks,  clinging  by  scores  to  my  hair  and  beard, 
like  so  many  thousand  devils  disputing  the  entrance  to 
hell.  I can  give  no  adequate  idea  of  this  chamber  of  hor- 
rors in  which  I now  found  myself.  Profoundly  silent,  we 
had  crawled  along,  each  man  having  a fast-beating  heart, 
and  listening  to  its  throbs ; and  now,  as  I emerged  into 
this  room,  the  loud  whirr  of  the  myriads  of  bats  was  like 
the  sounds  of  another  world  into  which  I had  penetrated. 
I staggered  forward  to  a rock  and  sat  down,  when  a 
piercing  yell  started  me  to  my  feet.  It  rang  through  the 
cavern  as  if  the  arch-fiend  himself  were  there  tormenting 
some  poor  soul.  But  it  was  only  one  of  my  poor  friends 
who  were  making  their  first  entrance  to  an  Egyptian 
catacomb,  and  had  never  before  encountered  the  bats,  with 
whom  I was  thoroughly  familiar.  ' The  one  w^ho  w^as  in 
advance  w^as  overwhelmed  by  the  army  that  met  him  as 
he  approached  the  room. 

“ What  is  it  ?”  I shouted. 

“ These  bats  : they  are  devouring  me.” 

“ Push  on  ; they’ll  not  harm  you.” 

“ My  light  is  gone,  and  I can  see  nothing.” 


42G 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  FAILURE. 


“ Here  is  my  light ; come  toward  it.”  I had  re-lit  my 
candle,  which  had  been  put  out  as  his  was,  and  was  now 
seated  in  the  centre  of  the  cavern,  on  a black  rock,  hold- 
ing it  up  before  my  face.  As  he  emerged  into  the  room 
and  caught  sight  of  me,  he  uttered  a howl  of  mingled 
astonishment  and  terror. 

“ Pluto  or  Sathanas,  by  all  the  gods,”  said  his  friend, 
coming  up  behind  him,  and  looking  at  me.  My  appear- 
ance must  have  been  picturesque  in  my  primitive  costume, 
now  begrimmed  with  dirt,  and  seven  bats  (they  counted 
them)  hanging  on  my  beard,  with  a perfect  net-work  and 
Medusa-coil  of  them  in  my  hair.  I was  very  little  dis- 
turbed by  the  harmless  little  fellows,  although,  before 
coming  to  Egypt,  I scarcely  knew  of  an  animal  in  the 
world  so  disgusting  to  my  mind. 

But  the  atmosphere,  if  it  may  be  so  called,  of  this 
chamber  was  beyond  all  description  horrible.  It  was  not 
an  air  to  faint  in  ; there  was  too  much  ammonia  for  that. 
It  was  foul,  vile,  terrible.  I confess,  that,  as  I found  my- 
self j^anting  for  breath,  and  drawing  long,  deep  inspira- 
tions, to  very  choking,  without  “ reaching  the  right  place” 
in  my  lungs  (I  think  every  one  understands  that),  I trem- 
bled for  an  instant  at  the  idea  of  going  further.  It  was 
but  an  instant,  however,  and  the  desire  to  see  the  great 
repository  of  the  sacred  animals  overpowered  the  momen- 
tary terror. 

“ Abdallah.” 

“ Ya,  Howajji.” 

“ If  any  thing  happens ; if  I fall  down,  give  out,  or 
faint,  do  not  you  run.  Tell  the  guides  that  I have  ordered 
Abd-el-Atti  to  shoot  them  man  by  man  as  they  come  out, 
if  one  of  them  appears  without  me.  Do  you  pour  this 
down  my  throat,  and  drag  me  out  to  the  entrance.  You 
understand  ?” 

“ Aiowah,  Ya  Howajji.  Fear  not ; I will  do  it.” 


A D VA  N C E . 


427 


“ Recollect  that  if  I die,  you  all  die.  That  is  arranged, 
for,  as  surely  as  you,  one  of  you,  attempt  the  entrance 
without  me,  Abd-el-Atti  is  ready  for  you.” 

The  guides  had  listened  attentively,  and,  having  seen 
me  hand  my  pistols  to  my  trusty  dragoman  before  com- 
ing down,  they  believed  every  word  of  it,  though  it  had 
never  occurred  to  me  till  this  instant. 

The  guides  were  all  at  fault  here,  precisely  as  they 
were  in  Mr.  Legh’s  time,  and  that  of  every  traveler  since. 
This  chamber  has  been  the  end  of  most  attempts  to  ex- 
plore the  pits.  The  intense  darkness  is  some  excuse  for 
this,  since  our  eight  candles  wholly  failed  to  show  a wall 
any  where  around  or  above  us.  The  men  proposed  that 
we  should  sit  still  while  they  tried  various  passages  open- 
ing out  of  the  room.  To  this  I objected,  much  preferring 
to  trust  myself  at  a juncture  like  this.  In  that  intense 
blackness  it  was  not  easy  to  find  even  the  way  we  had  come 
in  at,  for,  of  course,  there  was  no  guide  to  north  or  south, 
except  my  recollection  of  the  shape  of  the  rock  on  which 
I Avas  seated,  and  its  bearings  as  I approached  it.  The 
read  er  will  bear  in  mind  that  the  whole  floor  of  this  room 
was  covered  with  immense  masses  of  rock,  among  which 
we  moved  about  in  search  of  outlets,  leaving  always  one 
person  on  that  rock  to  mark  its  locality. 

After  trying  three  passages  that  led  nowhere,  I hit  on 
that  one  which  the  guides  pronounced  correct,' and  the 
party  advanced.  For  the  benefit  of  future  explorers,  if 
any  such  there  be,  I may  explain  that  it  is  the  first  pas- 
sage which  goes  out  of  the  chamber  to  the  right  as  you 
enter  it.  That  is  to  say,  keeping  the  right-hand  wall  will 
bring  you  to  it,  leaping  a chasm  at  its  entrance.  This  is 
the  chasm  of  Avhich  Legh  speaks.  I found  it  to  be  only 
about  six  feet  deep. 

The  passage  which  we  now  entered  ran  so  low  that  I 
found  it  necessary  to  creep  on  my  hands  and  knees,  and 


423 


NARROW  PLACE. 


sometimes  to  crawl,  snake  fashion,  full  length.  It  con- 
tinued for  a distance  that  I hesitate  to  estimate.  It  is 
wholly  impossible  to  guess  at  the  progress  one  is  making 
in  such  postures.  Henniker,  I think,  makes  it  four  hun- 
dred yards.  I should  think  a thousand  feet  a very  large 
estimate,  but  it  may  be  as  much.  The  air  was  now  worse, 
lacking  the  ammonia.  It  seemed  to  be  almost  pure  nitro- 
gen. The  lungs  operated  freely,  but  took  no  benefit  or 
refreshment  from  it,  while  the  heat  was  awful,  and  per- 
spiration rolled  down  our  faces  and  bodies,  soaking  our 
clothes  and  making  mud  on  our  features  and  hands,  with 
the  fine  dust  that  filled  the  atmosphere.  At  length  the 
passage  became  so  narrow,  that  my  progress  was  blocked 
entirely.  My  broad  shoulders  would  not  go  through,  and 
I paused  to  consider  the  matter.  The  hole  was  about 
eighteen  inches  wide,  and  a little  more  than  two  feet  high. 
Evidently  Mr.  Legh  did  not  pass  beyond  this.  I was  ob- 
liged to  lie  over  on  my  right  side,  presenting  my  body  to 
it  narrow  way  up  and  down,  and  pushing  with  all  the 
strength  of  my  feet  as  well  as  pulling  with  my  hands  on 
the  floor  and  rocky  projections,  I forced  myself  along 
about  eight  feet.  In  this  struggle  my  brandy  flask,  which 
was  in  my  trowsers  pocket,  being  under  me,  was  broken 
to  pieces,  and  my  sole  hope,  in  the  event  of  a giving  out  of 
my  faculties,  was  gone.  At  the  time,  I thought  little  of  it, 
laughing  at  the  occurrence  as  I called  out  to  those  who  fol- 
lowed me ; but  afterward  I remembered  the  incident  with 
a shudder.  The  only  argument  that  had  allowed  me  to 
persuade  myself  to  attempt  this  exploration  was  a pro- 
mise to  myself  that  I would  take  brandy  with  me,  which 
no  one  else  had  done,  and,  if  necessary,  secure  artificial 
strength  thereby.  It  was  gone  now,  and  I was  more  than 
a thousand  feet  from  light  and  air,  in  a passage  that  did 
not  average  four  feet  by  two  its  entire  length. 

A vigorous  push  sent  me  out  into  a more  open  passage 


THE  CROCODILE  MUMMIES. 


429 


and  a sort  of  doorway  opened  into  a gallery  on  a level 
two  feet  lower.  J umping  down  this  step  I was,  for  the 
first  time  in  nearly  a half  hour,  where  I could  stand  up- 
right. My  English  friend  shouted  for  helj)  behind  me. 
His  light  was  gone  out,  and  he  was  literally  stuck  in  the 
hole.  I returned,  touched  my  candle  to  his  and  gave  him 
a hand  to  drag  him  through,  and  in  a few  moments  we 
were  all  standing  together.  We  now  advanced  some 
hundred  feet,  perhaps  three,  perhaps  five  hundred,  in  a 
stooping  posture  mostly,  but  occasionally  crawling  as  be- 
fore, and,  at  length,  as  we  crept,  the  rough  and  very  low 
parts  of  the  gallery  and  the  roof  began  to  lift,  and  I found 
that  I was  actually  crawling  over  mummies.  There  was 
just  here  a sort  of  blind  passage  at  the  side  of  the  chief 
passage,  in  which  the  French  expedition  had  carved  their 
names.  The  walls  were  covered  with  a jet  black  sub- 
stance, like  the  purest  lamp  black,  which  the  point  of  a 
knife  would  scratch  off,  exposing  the  white  rock.  Numer- 
ous stalactites  hung  from  the  ceiling,  all  jet  black,  and 
some  grotesque  stalagmites  at  the  sides  of  the  passage 
startled  me  at  first  with  the  idea  that  they  were  sculp- 
tures. This  black  sooty  matter  I can  not  account  for 
unless  it  be  the  exhalations  in  ancient  times  from  the 
crocodiles  which  were  laid  here,  for  we  were  at  last  in  the 
depository. 

The  floor  was  covered  with  crocodile  bones  and  mum- 
my cloths.  A spark  of  fire  falling  into  them  would  have 
made  this  a veritable  hell.  As  this  idea  was  suggested, 
my  English  friends,  whose  experience  in  the  narrow  hole 
had  been  sufficiently  alarming,  vanished  out  of  sight. 
They  fairly  ran.  Having  seen  the  mummies,  and  'seized  a 
few  small  ones  in  their  hands,  they  hastened  out,  and  left  me 
with  Abdallah  and  my  two  guides.  Advancing  over  the 
mummies  and  up  the  hill  which  they  formed,  I found  that 
I was  in  one  of  a number  of  large  chambers,  of  the  depth 


430 


THE  CROCODILE  MUMMIES. 


of  which  it  was  of  course  imjDOSsible  to  get  any  idea,  as 
they  were  piled  full  of  mummied  crocodiles  to  the  very 
ceiling.  There  was  no  means  of  estimating  the  number 
of  them.  When  I say  there  were  thousands  on  thou- 
sands of  them,  I shall  not  be  thought  to  exaggerate  after 
I describe  the  manner  m which  they  were  packed  and 
laid  in. 

Climbing  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  extinguishing  all 
lights  but  one,  which  I made  Abdallah  hold  very  care- 
fully, I began  to  throw  down  the  top  of  the  pile  to  ascer- 
tain of  what  it  was  composed,  and  at  length  I made  an 
opening  between  the  mummies  and  the  ceiling,  through 
which  I could  go  on  further,  descending  a sort  of  hill  of 
these  dead  animals,  such  as  I had  come  up.  In  this  way  I 
progressed  some  distance,  in  a gallery  or  chamber  that 
was  not  less  than  twenty  feet  wide  and  probably  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  deep. 

The  crocodiles  were  laid  in  regular  layers,  head  to  tail 
and  tail  to  head.  First  on  the  floor  was  a layer  of  large 
crocodiles,  side  by  side,  each  one  carefully  mummied  and 
wrapped  up  in  cloths.  Then  smaller  ones  were  laid  be- 
tween the  tails  and  filling  up  the  hollows  between  these. 
Then,  and  most  curious  of  all,  the  remaining  interstices 
were  packed  full  of  young  crocodiles,  measuring  with  re- 
markable uniformity  about  thirteen  inches  in  length,  each 
one  stretched  out  between  two  slips  of  palm-leaf  stem, 
which  were  bound  to  its  sides  like  splints,  and  then  wrap- 
ped from  head  to  foot  in  a strip  of  cloth,  wound  around, 
commencing  at  the  tail  and  fastened  at  the  head.  These 
small  ones  were  made  up  in  bundles,  usually  of  eight, 
and  packed  in  closely  wherever  they  could  be  stowed.  I 
brought  out  more  than  a hundred  of  them,  of  which  my 
friends  in  Egypt  seized  on  the  most  as  curiosities,  but  I 
succeeded  in  getting  some  twenty  or  thirty  of  them  to 
America  with  me. 


GOING  ON. 


431 


This  layer  completed,  a layer  of  palm  branches  was 
carefully  laid  over  it,  spread  thick  and  smooth,  and  then  a 
second  and  precisely  similar  layer  of  crocodiles  was  made, 
and  another  of  palm  branches,  and  thus  continued  to  the 
ceiling.  These  palm  branches,  stems,  and  mummies  lie 
here  in  precisely  the  state  they  were  in  two  thousand 
years  ago.  No  leaf  of  the  palm  had  decayed.  There 
could  have  been  no  moisture  from  the  mummies  whatever 
— or  if  any  it  had  no  effect  on  the  palm  branches. 

Among  these  crocodiles  I found  the  mummies  of  many 
men. 

Sitting  down  on  the  hill,  by  the  dim  candle  light,  I 
overhauled  gods  and  men  wuth  sacrilegious  hand.  It  was 
a strange,  wdld,  and  awful  scene.  Among  all  the  pictures 
that  my  memory  has  treasured  of  wandering  life,  I have 
none  so  fearful  and  thrilling  as  this.  It  was  hell — a still, 
silent,  cold  hell.  All  these  bodies  lay  in  rows,  in  close 
packages,  like  so  many  souls  damned  to  eternal  silence 
and  sorrow  in  this  prison.  Five  bodies  of  men  that  I 
drew  out  of  the  mass  lay  before  me,  and  cursed  me  with 
their  hideous  stillness  and  inaction.  I dared  them  to  tell 
me  in  words  the  reproaches  of  which  their  silent  forms 
were  so  liberal;  reproaches  for  penetrating  their  abode 
and  disturbing  the  repose  of  twenty  or  forty  centuries. 

These  were  of  the  poorest  and  most  common  sort,  des- 
titute of  any  box,  w'ound  in  coarse  cloth  and  laid  in  the 
grave  with  the  beasts  that  were  sacred  to  their  god.  One 
I found  afterward  in  a thin  plain  box,  but  it  contained  no 
indication  of  its  period,  and  bore  no  mark  of  its  owner’s 
name  or  position,  much  to  my  disappointment. 

“ Let  us  go  further,”  I said  to  the  guides,  at  length. 

“ There  is  no  further.” 

I was  satisfied  that  the  entrance  we  had  effected  was 
not  by  the  passage  known  to  the  ancients,  and  that  some 
other  outlet  lay  beyond  these  chambers.  I pushed  my 


432 


ONE  OF  NOAH’S  TIME., 


way  over  the  piles  of  mummies  to  a point  where  another 
low  passage  went  on,  but  it  was  too  difficult  of  explora- 
tion to  tempt  me  into  it.  It  may  lead  to  an  outlet  in  the 
desert  hitherto  unknown,  or  that  outlet  may  be  long  ago 
covered  over  by  the  shifting  sands. 

What  was  the  object  of  all  this  preservation  of  the  Nile 
monsters  it  is  not  within  the  scope  of  this  volume  to  dis- 
cuss. It  is  at  best  a mystery,  for  we  know  so  little  of 
the  Egyptian  theory  of  a hereafter  that  we  can  not  im- 
derstand  what  part  the  birds  and  beasts  were  to  take  in 
the  resurrection. 

Time  flew  fast,  and  I began  to  think  that  if  I remained 
much  longer  I should  be  in  a fair  way  to  await  the 
resurrection  of  the  crocodiles  before  I should  emerge  to 
fight. 

I much  desired  to  bring  out  with  me  a gigantic  fellow, 
nearly  twenty  feet  long,  but  the  impossibility  of  it  made 
it  more  manifest  that  he  never  came  in  by  the  way  I had 
entered.  He  was  one  of  the  ante  or  immediately  post- 
diluvian sort,  a crocodile  of  the  days  when  there  were 
giants.  Perhaps  he  had  survived  the  flood;  who  knows  ? 
He  may  have  laid  that  huge  jaw  on  the  edge  of  the  ark 
in  stormy  times  and  fixed  those  hollow  eyes  on  the 
strange  ship  of  Noah.  He  may  have  fed  on  dainty  limbs 
that  were  swept  down  to  him  from  the  wrecks  of  palaces. 
I wonder  how  long  a crocodile  lives.  What  rags  these 
are  that  fill  this  cavern.  Rags  of  grave-clothes.  The  last 
thin  covering  of  the  dead,  torn  to  tatters  ! These  young 
fellows  have  paddled  in  sacred  fountains  and  been  fed  in 
costly  vases  in  temples  ? These  silent  men  were  guard- 
ians, keepers,  feeders  of  the  sacred  animals,  and  were 
buiied  with  their  charges — or  possibly,  they  were  croco- 
dile embalmers,  privileged  expressly  to  rot — no — to  pre- 
servation with  tlieir  hideous  companions. 

My  friend,  there  is  pleasant  thought,  in  our  land,  of 


D AYLIGH  T AGAIN. 


433 


graves  in  shadowy  church-yard  corners,  but  think  of  life 
in  such  employment  and  burial  here  ! If  I thought  that 
I were  to  be  laid  in  that  horrible  company — I would — 
I would — if  they  did  lay  me  there  I would  rise  up 
and  walk  from  very  horror  and  find  another  grave  for 
myself, 

I crawled  out  as  I had  crawled  in.  Before  I came 
away  from  the  chamber  of  horror  (Madame  Tussaud’s  is 
nothing  like  it)  I laid  the  wreck  of  my  brandy-flask  on  a 
projecting  shelf  of  rock  where  the  next  exj^lorer  will 
find  it.  The  chances  are  that  it  will  turn  up  in  the 
British  or  Prussian  Museum,  as  evidence  of  the  bad 
habits  of  the  ancient  Egyptians  thus  provkl  to  be  strong 
in  death. 

I never  saw  a light  so  clear  and  beautiful  as  was  the 
daylight  that  fell  in  the  entrance  of  the  cavern.  As  I a]D- 
proached  it  its  tints  appeared  deep  violet  only — exceed- 
ingly rich. 

“ What  is  that  ?”  I exclaimed,  not  recognizing  the 
divine  sunshine  from  which  I had  been  for  some  hours 
separated. 

My  ajDpearance  must  have  been  hideous  as  I sprang  out 
on  the  sand,  and  fell  down  exhausted  at  the  very  side  of 
the  pit.  The  desert  air  seemed  piercing  cold,  and  the 
brandy  being  all  gone,  I could  but  wrap  myself  in  a 
boornoose,  and  seek  to  get  warmth  in  the  sunshine. 

My  arrival  was  opportune.  It  was  about  three  in  the 
afternoon.  The  bellicose  villagers  had  been  collected 
after  our  coming  on  to  the  mountain,  and  were  just  now 
making  their  appearance  in  a body  of  about  twenty. 
They  paused  at  a hundred  yards’  distance,  and  sent  one, 
a huge  fellow  with  an  uncommonly  bold  air,  to  be  spokes- 
man in  their  demands.  His  brave  and  impudent  way  of 
demanding  by  what  light  wc  were  on  the  mountain  was 
deserving  of  a better  fate  than  awaited  him. 

19 


434 


AN  ATTACK. 


“ Is  the  mountain  yours  ?” 

“ Yes,  it  is  ours  ; no  one  has  a right  to  he  here  without 
paying  us.  Who  is  to  pay  me,  now  ?” 

“ I will,”  said  Abd-el-Atti,  springing  at  him,  koorbash 
in  hand,  which  he  laid  on  furiously  over  his  head  and 
shoulders.  The  astounded  Arab  endeavored  to  assert  his 
rights  again,  but  the  w^hip  fell  fast,  and  at  length,  com- 
pletely routed,  he  fled  toward  his  allies,  and  they  joined 
him  in  the  flight,  while  the  indefatigable  dragoman  pur- 
sued the  entire  party,  brandishing  his  w'eapon  in  the  air, 
to  their  immense  horror  and  our  infinite  amusement. 

As  he  paused,  they  stood  and  shouted  a defiance  that 
was  ludicrous  under  the  circumstances,  and  preeminently 
so  their  threat  to  go  down  to  Manfaloot  and  inform  the 
governor  that  a traveler,  with  an  Egyptian  dragoman, 
had  committed  this  wu’ong  on  their  prescriptive  rights. 
From  Mr.  Legh’s  account,  it  seems  probable  that  in  his 
day  the  Manfaloot  governor  was,  to  a certain  extent, 
under  the  influence  of  these  men,  but  we  laughed  at  them 
as  we  turned  to  our  claret  and  luncheon,  which  I de- 
voured wdth  a voracious  appetite.  I am  compelled  to 
admit  that  it  tasted  of  mummy.  I can  not  deny  that 
every  thing  that  I ate  for  a week  had  the  same  flavor. 
Countless  washings  would  not  clear  my  mouth  and  throat 
of  the  fine,  impalpable  dust  that  covered  its  interior,  and 
my  moustache  was  mummyish  for  a month,  spite  of  Lubin 
and  Fiver. 

Stopping  on  the  way  back  to  visit  a small  Coptic  church 
near  the  village  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  we  reached 
the  boat  at  three  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  my  first 
movement  was  to  plunge  over  the  other  side  into  the 
river.  Until  this  was  accomplished,  it  was  useless  to  hope 
to  be  recognized  in  the  cabin  of  the  Phantom.  My  com- 
plexion was  dead  crocodile,  my  odor  w^as  dead  crocodile, 
my  clothes  were  dead  crocodile — for  I had  not  changed 


MANFALOOT. 


435 


them  on  coming  out  of  the  pit — I was  hut  little  removed 
from  being  a dead  crocodile'  myself. 

While  we  dined,  the  boat  drifted  down  the  river  four 
miles,  to  Manfaloot  on  the  west  bank. 

Reis  Hassanein’s  request  to  be  allowed  to  go  by  without 
stopping  could  not  be  granted,  and  indeed  he  had  begun 
to  think  better  of  it.  He  disappeared  on  our  arrival  at 
the  city,  and  reappeared  -in  an  hour  with  smiles  on  his 
face. 

I went,  so  soon  as  we  had  finished  dinner,  to  the  Coptic 
convent,  which  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  Egypt, 
but  that  is  not  saying  much. 

The  Coptic  church  is  most  sadly  degenerated.  Igno- 
rance and  stupidity  seem  to  characterize  the  priests,  and 
I found  none  of  the  laity  who  seemed  to  have  even  an 
ordinary  idea  of  the  fundamental  truths  of  the  Christian 
religion. 

The  church  was  a low,  arched  room,  the  ceiling  sup- 
ported on  arches  which  rested  on  brick  pillars.  The  altar 
was  behind  a latticed  door,  and  at  the  opposite  end  of  the 
church  was  a latticed  place  for  the  females.  All  was  cold, 
damp,  and  dreary.  There  were  some  very  curious  old 
pictures  on  the  walls,  which  were,  indeed,  my  object  in 
coming  here,  but  the  bishop  was  absent,  and  I did  not 
talk  Avith  any  one  about  them.  They  took  us  into  the 
convent  court,  and  we  sat  down  a while  Avith  a half  dozen 
monks  to  discuss  chibouks  and  cofifee,  and  some  dry 
wheaten  cakes — blessed  cakes  from  the  altar,  if  I mistake 
not,  though  we  could  not  get  the  explanation  of  their  pe- 
culiarity— and  then  I strolled  up  into  the  city. 

In  the  bazaar  I met  the  governor  on  his  way  down  to 
see  me,  and  I turned  him  back  to  go  to  his  own  house. 

Taking  a seat  with  him  in  the  gloomy  court,  we  lit  pipes 
and  had  sipped  coffee  a fcAv  minutes,  when  our  interview 
was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  a fellah,  who  demanded 


436 


JUSTICE. 


loudly  an  audience  from  the  governor,  and  presenting 
himself  at  his  feet  in  the  shadowy  corner  of  the  court, 
poured  out  a furious  tale  of  wrongs  that  he  had  suffered 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  a traveler  and  his 
dragoman. 

The  foolish  dog  had  not  once  raised  his  eyes  to  see  that 
the  companion  of  the  governor’s  diwan  was  none  other 
than  his  enemy.  Had  he  looked,  he  would  scarcely  have 
recognized  in  the  tolerably  respectable  visage  and  cloth- 
ing of  Braheem  Effendi,  the  dirty  brown,  half-naked  ob- 
ject just  emerged  from  the  crocodile  pits. 

Terrible  was  his  narration,  and  a governor  of  ordinary 
intellect  must  have  been  moved  to  indignation  at  some 
one,  the  lying  narrator  or  the  accused,  by  his  admirable 
tale.  But  Ali  Rashwan  Bey  was  not  the  man  to  be  af- 
fected by  trifles,  and  his  sagacious  mind  took  in  the 
whole. 

When  the  accuser  had  finished,  the  governor  was  silent 
for  a moment,  while  clouds  of  smoke — dire  portent ! — 
filled  the  air  above  the  head  of  the  devoted  fellah. 

“ Hast  thou  heard  him,  O Braheem  Effendi  ?” 

“ Yea,  word  for  word,  O high  and  mighty  governor.” 

“ How  much  is  false,  and  how  much  is  true,  O Howajji 
Braheem  ?” 

“ All  is  false — save  only  this — that  he,  with  nineteen 
other  men  of  his  village,  did  set  on  me  in  the  mountain 
pass  and  would  verily  have  robbed  me,  as  they  have 
robbed  travelers  oftentimes  heretofore,  but  that  we  put 
them  to  flight.  There  are  many  bad  stories  of  his  village 
written  in  the  books,  and  it  would  be  well  to  punish  them 
once  for  all,  that  the  traveler  may  not  hereafter  be  pre- 
vented from  visiting  the  crocodile  pits  at  Maabdeh.” 

“ Lay  the  unrighteous  dog  on  the  ground.”  They 
have  a knack  at  it  in  Egypt.  I have  never  seen  it  done 
as  well  in  other  Turkish  countries.  Before  he  had  time 


COPTIC  BISHOP. 


437 


to  howl  he  was  lying  on  his  face,  a man  sitting  on  his 
sho.ulders,  and  another  on  his  legs. 

“Name  the  nineteen  companions  who  were  with  you 
on  the  mountain.” 

No  answer.  ^ 

A nod  to  the  ready  slave,  and  the  blow  fell.  The 
victim  howled,  but  it  w*as  evident  that  he  howied  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Eastern  flogging,  except  w’hen  the 
bastinado  is  used  on  the  feet,  is  a farce.  The  blow^s  of  a 
large  stick  on  loose  clothes  do  no  harm  until  they  have 
been  often  repeated.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  vast 
number  of  blows  sometimes  administered.  Five  hundred 
in  Egypt  is  not  equal  to  flve  dozen  in  the  navy  of  En- 
gland, scarcely  indeed  to  one  dozen.  By  the  tenth  blow 
there  is  a perceptible  aching,  but  the  hundredth  may  not 
be  painful  at  all.  After  a few  blows  the  character  of  the 
performance  was  changed,  and  the  soles  of  his  feet  were 
turned  up.  This  is  a stinging  infliction.  At  the  flfteenth 
blow  he  shouted  the  name  of  a companion,  and  out  came 
the  whole  row.  Before  I left  Manfaloot  next  morning, 
every  one  of  the  nineteen  was  in  prison  there,  awaiting 
sentence. 

I returned  to  the  Coptic  church  in  the  evening.  The 
old  bishop  W’as  there,  and  with  a dim  candle  he  and  I 
entered  the  church.  I showed  him  w^hat  picture  I wished, 
and  he  pushed  the  bishop’s  chair  under  it  for  me' to  stand 
in  and  look  at  it,  holding  up  the  dip  to  its  surface.  But 
he  would  not  sell  it  to  me. 

He  insisted  on  giving  it  to  me,  if  I would  promise  not 
to  make  him  any  present  in  return.  He  was  old,  very 
old,  and  they  would  say  the  old  bishop  had  sold  church 
property,  and  that  would  never  do.  I would  not  accept 
it  on  such  terms,  and  then  he  lamented  that  he  had  of- 
fended me,  and  I,  to  convince  him  he  had  not,  took  him 
along  dowm  to  the  boat,  where  he  comforted  his  old 


438 


WINE  AND  COFFEE. 


bones  with  such  wine  as  he  had  never  tasted  before. 
All  Rashwan  came  down  directly,  and  sat  on  the  op- 
posite diwan.  He  was  Moslem  and  could  not  drink 
wine.  But  he  took  coffee,  cup  for  glass  with  the  bishop, 
and  one  emptied  the  coffee-pot  and  the  other  the  de- 
canter by  bed  time.  Bed  time  came  early,  for  I was  very 
weary,  having  accomplished  the  hardest  day’s  work  that 
I did  in  Egypt. 


ifO. 

“Segolfife  ^lf|ce§-” 

It  was  a pleasant  afternoon  when  we  approached  Beni 
Hassan,  but  a dark  cloud  lay  in  the  west,  and  the  air  was 
cold.  A head  wind  kept  the  boat  back,  and  we  took  the 
small  boat,  with  sundry  shawls,  cloaks,  luncheon  and  its 
accompaniments,  and  pulled  down  the  river  to  the  nearest 
point  from  which  we  could  reach  these  celebrated  tombs. 
We  thus  gained  an  hour  or  two  on  the  large  boat,  and 
had  time  to  examine  the  most  interesting  paintings. 

The  broad  plain  was  to  be  crossed,  here  nearly  or  quite 
a mile  wide,  and  the  land  being  newly  plowed,  made  the 
walking  excessively  fatiguing.  But  the  hillside  was  more 
so,  and  to  add  to  our  trouble,  a sharp  pelting  shower  of 
rain  came  up  as  we  Avere  climbing  the  sandy  slope,  and 
Ave  laughed  at  each  other  for  being  caught  out  in  a storm 
in  Egypt  Avithout  an  umbrella. 

It  lasted  but  a fcAv  minutes,  and  then  the  sun  shone 
gloriously  into  the  open  tombs,  which,  being  on  the  east 
side  of  the  river,  open  to  the  Avest. 

Beni  Hassan  was  for  a long  time  regarded  Avith  great 
interest,  because  of  a painting  on  the  Avail  of  one  of  the 
chief  tombs,  Avhich  Avas  supposed  to  represent  the  arrival 
in  Egypt  of  the  brethren  of  Joseph.  There  are  several 
points  tending  remarkably  to  shoAV  that  this  is  so,  but 
others  Avhich  perhaps  forbid  the  idea.  The  tomb  is  of  the 


440 


TOMBS  AT  BENI  HASSAN. 


time  of  Osirtasen,  whom  Wilkinson  supposes  to  be  co- 
temporary with  Joseph.  The  picture  represents  the  pre- 
sentation of  strangers  to  a person — not  royal.  The  stran- 
gers are  two  men  bringing  a goat  and  a gazelle  as  presents, 
then  four  men  leading  a donkey,  on  which  are  baskets 
containing  two  children,  a boy  and  four  women  following, 
another  donkey  loaded,  and  two  men  bringing  up  the 
rear.  The  number  thirty-seven  is  placed  above  them,  to 
indicate  that  these  are  but  the  representatives  of  that 
number.  The  name  of  the  person  into  whose  presence 
they  are  led  is  not  Joseph,  nor  Zaphnath  Paaneah,  but 
Nehoth  or  Nefhotph ; and  names  of  his  father  and  mother 
are  also  given. 

It  is,  however,  by  no  means  certain  that  this  is  not  a 
representation  of  that  memorable  scene.  It  may  be  that 
in  this  tomb  the  bones  of  Joseph  awaited  the  exodus,  or 
those  of  one  of  his  mighty  brothers  lay  till  barbarian 
hands  broke  their  repose. 

But  the  tombs  of  Beni  Hassan  are  interesting  on  other 
accounts  than  these.  We  find  among  them  almost  as 
many  representations  of  scenes  in  the  private  lives  of  an- 
cient Egyptians  as  at  Thebes.  The  tombs  of  greatest  in- 
terest open  in  a row,  side  by  side,  on  a terrace  some  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain  on  the  hillside.  One 
of  these  contains  admirable  colored  pictures  of  nearly  all 
the  animals,  birds,  beasts,  and  fish  known  to  ancient  Egypt. 

Another  is  particularly  interesting  as  containing  repre- 
sentations of  games  and  gymnastics,  many  of  which  are 
very  familiar  to  moderns. 

They  play  at  ball,  games  of  chance,  and  of  skill.  We 
passed  the  entire  afternoon  in  going  from  one  to  another, 
sketching  outlines  of  the  drawings  on  the  walls,  studying 
the  curious  lists  of  animals,  and  looking  out  from  the 
doors  at  tlie  magnificent  view  over  the  Nile. 

As  the  darkness  approached  we  came  down  the  hill  and 


A MISTAKE. 


441 


crossed  the  plowed  land  to  our  small  boat.  The  Phantom 
had  gone  on  down  the  Nile,  and  we  had  hard  work  before 
us  to  overtake  her.  We  were  delayed  longer  by  stopping 
to  shoot  a duck,  and  then  the  men  lay  down  to  their  oars, 
and  the  boat  flew  through  the  waten  A dark  cloud 
again  gathered  and  began  to  pour  a shower  on  us.  We 
sat  close  together  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  and  drew  my 
boornoose  over  the  whole  party.  It  was  a home-like 
shower.  Suddenly  Miriam,  whose  eyes  were  out  of  a 
hole  watching  the  shore,  shouted,  “Timsa,  Timsa,”  and 
the  next  instant  a magnificent  crocodile,  who  had  fallen 
asleep  on  a sand  bank  and  not  woke  up  to  see  that  it 
W'as  getting  dark,  roused  by  our  oars  close  to  his  nose, 
lifted  himself  high  up  on  his  legs,  and  as  I sent  a load  of 
shot  into  his  hide  sprang  into  the  air  and  fell  with  a tre- 
mendous splash  in  the  water  and  vanished.  He  was  the 
last  of  the  gods  of  Egypt  that  I saw. 

Ten  minutes  later  we  were  startled  by  a very  long  low 
black  boat,  apparently  crammed  with  men  putting  out 
from  the  shore,  evidently  to  intercept  us.  The  neighbor- 
hood of  Beni  Hassan  is  celebrated  for  robberies,  and  the 
prospect  looked  bad.  But  we  held  on,  and  as  we  neared 
her  Trumbull  shouted  to  them  to  put  down  their  helm 
and  sheer  off,  while  we  all  three  rose  with  guns  raised, 
commanding  them  completely  and  ready  to  pour  in  a 
volley  of  six  barrels.  The  next  instant  the  loud  voice  of 
Ferrajj  shouting  his  own  name  and  imploring  us  not  to 
fire,  changed  the  seriousness  of  the  scene  to  the  ludicrous, 
The  faithful  fellow  knew  that  we  were  without  umbrellas, 
and  had  hired  a shore  boat  to  come  up  and  bring  them  to 
us.  The  shower  was  now  nearly  over,  but  we  were  wet 
and  cold,  and  it  was  much  the  most  uncomfortable  night 
we  had  experienced  on  the  river.  The  cabin  w^as  wel- 
come, and  Hajji  Mohammed’s  dinner  as  usual  restored 
our  equanimity. 


19* 


442 


LATIF  PASHA. 


In  the  intervals  of  a furious  gale  of  wind  that  blew  all 
night  that  night  we  drifted  down  to  Minieh,  where  Latif 
Pasha  was  laid  up  with  an  attack  of  Bedouin  fever.  He 
called  it  rheumatism.  But  as  he  had  recently  hung  a 
number  of  Bedouins,  and  their  friends  had  sworn  to  have 
his  blood,  and  as  no  steamer  was  at  hand  to  tow  his  boat 
up  to  Es  Siout,  it  was  manifest  that  he  did  not  dare  to 
sail  up  the  river  on  his  dahabieh,  and  was  laid  up  ac- 
cordingly. 

I found  him  in  a quilted  room.  The  walls  were  covered 
with  quilted  silk.  No  breath  of  air  could  blow  through 
it.  I sat  a couple  of  hours  with  him,  smoking  a chibouk, 

' of  which  the  mouth-piece  w^as  amber  with  seven  grand 
pearls  around  it,  each  one  round,  creamy,  and  worth  a 
duchy. 

He  is,  as  I before  remarked,  one  of  the  finest  looking  men 
I have  ever  seen.  But  he  has  a terrible  reputation.  He 
has  hung  more  than  a hundred  and  fifty  men  within  twenty- 
four  months,  without  law  or  form  of  trial,  contrary  to  the 
statutes  in  such  cases  made,  but  confident  of  Said  Pasha’s 
approval.  At  Es  Siout  he  never  sleeps  in  the  palace  on' 
shore.  He  dare  not  trust  himself  there;  but  always 
sleeps  in  his  boat,  lying  outside  a steamer,  over  which 
any  attack  from  the  land  must  be  made,  while  he  has  am- 
ple force  to  beat  otf  any  pirates  on  the  water. 

He  has  much  of  the  Ibrahim  Pasha  style  about  him ; 
and  nothing  more  delights  him  than  the  order  to  destroy 
a village.  I inquired  Avhat  was  the  meaning  of  the  great 
collection  of  soldiers  in  the  streets  that  day,  and  he  re- 
plied, smiling  quietly,  that  he  was  sending  up  to  burn  the 
villages  at  Beni  Hassan.  The  people  had  gotten  such  a 
bad  character  that  nothing  short  of  extermination  would 
answer. 

I was  often  reminded  by  his  conversation  of  the  stories 
of  Mohammed  Defterdar,  who  cut  a slave’s  head  off  as 


A MORNING  ROW. 


443 


coolly  as  he  would  carve  a chicken.  Such  occurrences 
are  not  unknown  in  Egypt  even  in  this  day.  While  I 
was  in  Cairo,  Said  Pasha  gave  Mohammed  Bey,  chief  of 
police,  seven  days  in  which  to  catch  a murderer ; and 
when  the  eighth  day  came,  and  he  was  not  caught,  Mo- 
hammed Bey  missed  his  head. 

We  left  Minieh  at  noon,  and  made  a tremendous  run 
to  Sakkara,  where  we  arrived  at  evening  of  the  next  day. 
The  pyramids  of  Sakkara  are  of  little  interest ; hut  it  was 
our  desire  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Apis,  recently  opened  by 
M.  Mariot,  and  we  paused  for  this. 

The  sun  came  up  over  the  eastern  hills,  now  known  as 
Mokattam  {hewn)  range,  because  of  the  vast  quarries 
which  are  among  them,  whence  the  pyramids  were  dug 
out.  We  awoke  early,  and  found  that  a steamer  had  ar- 
rived in  the  night,  and  been  laid  up  close  by  us. 

The  usual  morning  row  on  shore  was  greater  than  was 
common ; and  I hastened  out  to  find  Abd-el-Atti  in  a fu- 
rious combat  with  an  Italian  gentleman,  one  of  the  party 
on  the  steamer.  It  appeared  that  the  former,  knowing 
the  difficulty  of  obtaining  donkeys  at  or  near  Sakkara, 
had  dropped  a man  on  shore  five  miles  above,  and  directed 
him  to  find  the  necessary  animals,  and  have  them  at  the 
boat  by  daylight.  The  Italian  gentleman  had  captured 
one  of  these  useful  vehicles,  which,  of  course,  was  our  es- 
pecial property;  and  Abd-el-Atti  had  captured  him  in  the 
very  act  of  beating  the  donkey-boy,  w^ho  insisted  on  being 
allowed  to  go  to  his  rightful  owner.  Thereupon  the 
dragoman,  who  recognized  no  superior  in  the  world,  ex- 
cept his  employer  and  the  government,  “ pitched  into” 
the  Roman  with  astonishing  bravery;  and  the  latter, 
overwhelmed  by  the  suddenness  of  the  onset,  shouted 
for  help.  The  steamer’s  crew  hastened  to  the  rescue,  and 
the  crew  of  the  Phantom  flew  to  the  aid  of  their  com- 
mander. Then  ensued  a combat  that  Homer’s  ghost  re- 


444 


AN  ITALIAN  OVERTHROWN. 


gretted  the  impossibility  of  describing  to  mortal  ears; 
and  in  the  midst  of  it  I rushed  in  on  the  battle  and 
shouted  a parley. 

Seated  on  the  bank  above  the  steamer,  in  the  simplest 
of  costumes,  a shirt  oj^en  at  the  neck  and  a pair  of  brown 
linen  trowsers,  I held  one  of  my  extemporaneous  courts. 
The  southern  European  demanded  justice  on  the  Egypt- 
ian Avho  had  dared  attack  him.  The  Egyptian  was  silent, 
not  precisely  knowing  what  course  his  master  would  take 
in  the  premises.  I have  already  remarked  on  the  state 
of  law  in  Egypt  which  entirely  prevents  the  punishment 
of  an  offending  foreigner,  and  which  makes  it  very  dan- 
gerous for  a native  to  msult  or  injure  a howajji.  The 
Italian  gentleman  was  furious  in  his  denunciation,  but 
fortunately  Abd-el-Atti  could  understand  him,  and  when 
he  was  somewhat  out  of  breath  I demanded  an  explana- 
tion of  his  side  of  the  case.  He  gave  it  with  suppressed 
rage,  but  with  remarkable  outward  coolness,  while  the 
Italian  interrupted  him  often  with  abusive  language,  and 
demanded  that  I should  have  him  bastinadoed,  bow- 
stringed, or  hung,  then  and  there,  for  laying  hands  on 
him.  When  I learned  the  donkey  story  I began  to  un- 
derstand the  case,  and  as  this  was  my  quarrel  I demanded 
if  he  had  attempted  to  steal  one  of  my  donkeys  in  that 
manner.  He  replied  that  he  had  as  much  right  to  the 
donkey  as  I.  I retorted  that  I was  glad  he  was  thrashed, 
and  only  regretted  he  had  not  received  more  of  it,  and 
then  he  sprang  forward. 

Before  I could  move,  Abd-el-Atti  had  him  by  the  roll 
of  his  vest,  and  for  a moment  they  clinched  in  excellent 
style ; then  he  pushed  him  slowly  toward  the  boat,  and 
when  the  distance  was  correct,  sent  him  flying  over  the 
toe  of  his  slipper  into  the  shallow  mud  and  water  at  the 
edge  of  the  Nile,  a result  that  was  received  with  loud 
shouts  by  four  or  five  English  or  American  gentleman 


SESOSTRIS  FALLEN. 


445 


who  had  been  watching  the  entire  fray  from  the  deck  of 
the  steamer,  and  an  emphatic  tieh  ! tieh  ! from  me.  This 
desirable  accomplishment  effected,  I went  on  board  and 
dressed  for  breakfast. 

The  route  to  the  Pyramids  of  Sakkara  was  through 
fields  of  corn,  and  grain,  and  gloridffs  palm  groves  that 
grow  on  the  site  of  ancient  Memphis.  At  the  .village  of 
Mitrahenny  we  paused  among  excavations  made  by  va- 
rious exploring  expeditions,  and  looked  at  ___  ^ 

the  statue  of  Remeses  lying  prostrate  in  the 
water,  with  his  face  downward,  half-buried  in 
the  soil.  This  is  one  of  the  colossal  statues, 
like  those  at  Abou  Simbal  and  on  the  plain  of 
Thebes,  bearing  the  names  of  kings  and  recording  their 
kingly  thoughts.  This  bears  the  name  of  Remeses. 

These  colossal  statues  are  something  more  than  masses 
of  stone.  I remember  once  meeting  v/ith  an  eminent 
artist  in  Rome  who  laughed  at  the  idea  of  admiring  an 
Egyptian  statue,  devoid  of  form  or  comeliness,  a huge, 
rough  hewn  mass  of  stone.  But  I am  not  altogether  cer- 
tain that  the  idea  of  hewing  a mountain  into  a statue  of 
Alexander  was  not  a greater  thought  than  the  conception 
of  the  Venus  de  Medici,  or  the  Apollo  of  the  Apollos. 

Our  route  was  necessarily  circuitous,  on  account  of  the 
Nile  canals  that  intercept  the  plain  in  all  directions.  We 
met  the  large  majority  of  the  steamer  party  returning  as 
we  approached  the  pyramids,  and,  enquiring  what  treat- 
ment they  received  at  the  tomb  of  Apis,  found  that  they 
had  been  subjected  to  a heavy  tax  by  way  of  entrance 
fee.  Pausing  awhile  to  look  at  the  pyramid,  which  is 
small  as  compared  with  Cheops,  but  large  enough  to  be 
a wonder  of  the  world,  we  pressed  on  over  the  sand  hills, 
among  hundreds  of  open  tombs,  to  the  great  object  of 
our  visit. 

We  had  been  told  that  this  tomb  was  in  possession  of 


446 


TOMB  OF  APIS. 


ii  tribe  of  tlie  worst  Arabs  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
pyramids,  and  that  was  saying  much,  for  they  are  by  far 
the  hardest  wretches  hereabout  that  are  to  be  found  in 
Arabia  or  Egypt.  Knowmg  that  the  tomb  was  regarded 
as  specially  interesting,  more  so  than  almost  any  thing 
near  Cairo,  they  ^ad  taken  possession  of  it,  and  de- 
manded two  dollars  from  every  visitor  as  a fee  for  enter- 
iug.  Travelers  usually  go  to  this  place  soon  after  their 
arrival  in  Egypt,  and  before  familiarity  with  the  natives 
has  bred  that  contempt  which  it  soon  does.  We  were  by 
this  time  tolerably  familiar  with  the  debased  Arabs  of 
the  Egyptian  frontier,  who  are  neither  noble  as  the 
desert  Bedouins,  nor  fearful  of  insulting  travelers  as  are 
the  fellaheen  of  the  Nile  valley. 

When  we  reached  the  entrance  to  the  tomb,  in  a hol- 
low of  the  desert  sand  hills,  west  of  the  pyramids,  we 
found  it  walled  up  with  stone,  although  it  was  not 
thirty  minutes  since  gentlemen  had  come  out.  Some  fifty 
Arabs  stood  near,  and  a loud  shout  for  bucksheesh  was 
the  immediate  demand.  I paid  no  attention  to  them,  but 
advanced  directly  to  the  entrance  and  commenced  throw- 
ing down  the  stone  wall.  To  loud  shouts  ot  “ Stop, 
stop !”  from  fifty  throats,  I paid  no  attention,  and  mean- 
while the  ladies  were  dismounting  close  by  me.  We 
were  four,  Trumbull  and  myself,  Abd-el-Atti  and  Moham- 
med Hassan,  in  this  crowd  of  screaming  devils — human 
they  did  not  appear.  I was  continuing  my  w^ork  with 
my  back  to  the  noisy  crowd,  w'hile  Trumbull  and  Abd-el- 
Atti  were  keeping  them  off,  when  the  sheik  suddenly 
sprang  at  me  and  seized  me  by  the  shoulder  over-rudely. 
He  had  not  time  to  say  one  “ Allah !”  before  my  fingers 
were  twisted  in  the  neck-band  of  his  shirt,  my  knuckles 
buried  in  his  wind-pipe,  and  an  ugly-looking  volcanic  pis- 
tol at  the  side  of  his  head. 

I backed  him  ten  paces,  and  his  retainers  fell  away  be- 


A GUARD. 


447 


hind  him.  Then  I shook  him  off,  and  talked  a little  to 
him.  The  substance  of  my  remarks  was  a warning 
against  touching  with  unholy  hands  the  shoulder  of  one 
who  could  throw  him  over  the  Xile  into  the  Red  Sea. 
Physical  strength,  of  which  I had  sufficient  for  my  pur- 
poses, intimidates  the  effeminate  fellows,  and  the  muzzle 
of  a pistol  is  a dry  hint  that  they  are  quick  to  take.  I 
drew  a line  on  the  sand,  twenty  feet  from  the  mouth  of 
the  cave,  and  told  them  that  any  man  who  came  over 
that  line  should  be  shot  on  the  spot.  Giving  Mohammed 
Hassan  my  fowling-piece,  I seated  him  at  one  end  of  the 
line,  where  he  commanded  it,  with  orders  to  obey  my  in- 
structions to  the  letter. 

This  done,  we  entered  the  cave.  In  its  vast  halls  we 
found,  what  the  successful  Frenchman  had  found  before, 
twenty-three  great  sarcophagi  of  polished  basalt,  in  each 
of  which  had  been  a bull,  such  as  Americans  may  see  in 
Dr.  Abbott’s  museum  in  Xew  York.  The  dead  apis  was 
buried  here  in  solemn  state  in  those  days  when  the  Egyp- 
tians made  him  their  God.  The  gloom  of  the  long  halls, 
the  splendid  coffins  standing  each  in  its  arched  niche, 
robbed  indeed  of  all  their  distinctive  marks — for  M. 
Mariot  has  carefully  concealed  all  his  hieroglyphical  dis- 
coveries  in  this  tomb — the  silence  and  awful  solemnity  of 
the  place  made  it  one  of  the  most  profoundly  interesting 
that  I had  visited  in  Egypt. 

When  we  came  out,  after  an  hour  in  the  vast  halls  of 
this  great  tomb,  we  found  Mohammed  Hassan  seated  in 
the  spot  where  I had  left  him,  and  the  front  row  of  Arabs 
on  their  haunches  in  the  sand  on  the  safe  side  of  the  line, 
while  a hundred  more  stood,  growling  and  furious,  but 
cowards  all,  behind.  We  mounted  and  rode  away,  leav- 
ing them  to  fleece  the  next  traveler  who  may  be  foolish 
enough  to  submit  to  their  imposition. 

Let  the  reader  understand  that  these  were  not  desert 


448 


SEIZING  SOLDIERS. 


Bedouins.  I confess  freely  that  I am  too  much  of  a 
coward  to  touch  with  my  own  hands  a free,  uncontam- 
inated Bedouin  of  the  desert,  surrounded  by  his  tribe. 

AVe  had  directed  the  boat  to  drop  down  the  river  a 
few  miles,  and  we  returned  from  Sakkara  by  another 
route,  stopping  only  a little  while  to  examine  the  Ibis 
mummy  pits.  There  are  several  of  these  open,  contain- 
ing many  thousand  of  the  sacred  birds.  Each  bird  is 
wrapped  carefully  in  cloths,  and  enclosed  in  an  earthen 
jar,  which  is  closed  and  sealed  tight.  The  jars  are  piled 
on  each  other  in  cords,  filling  the  chambers  to  the  roof. 
We  pulled  out  hundreds  of  them,  aU  alike  in  shape  and 
contents. 

There  was  a Avild  cry  ringing  through  the  palm  groves 
as  we  came  down  on  the  level  land.  The  soldiers  of  Said 
Pasha  Avere  abroad,  impressing  boys  for  the  army,  and 
had  caught  not  a fcAV  among  the  villages  on  the  plain. 
Theii’  mothers  and  sisters  were  rending  the  air  with  AA’ails 
of  sorrow,  for  the  parting  was,  as  they  Avell  knew,  likely 
to  be  final. 

We  approached  the  boat,  and  found  her  surrounded  by 
two  thousand  soldiers,  looking  curiously  into  the  win- 
dows, or  down  on  her  from  tl\e  banks,  but  kept  from  in- 
truding by  Ferrajj  Avho  stood  manfully  at  the  plank,  for- 
bidding entrance  to  one  and  all,  ofiicer  and  private.  It 
Avas  sunset,  and  at  the  short  twilight  Ave  dropped  down 
to  Ghizeh.  Cairo,  especially  the  lofty  citadel  and  the 
mosk  of  Mohammed  Ali,  was  before  us,  gleaming  in  the 
last  rays  of  the  western  sun.  On  both  sides  of  the  river 
the  banks  were  covered  with  soldiers,  the  A'iceroy  haA^- 
ing  some  fifteen  thousand  under  arms  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

Ghizeh,  as  the  reader  already  knows,  is  opposite  to  old 
Cairo,  which  is  two  miles  from  the  walls  of  modern  Cairo 
the  grand.  The  pyramids,  are  some  six  miles  from  the 


DESOLATE  PLACES. 


449 


river,  as  are  those  at  Sakkara.  "We  laid  the  boat  up  at 
the  shore  of  the  village  of  Ghizeh,  whence  we  designed 
making  our  excursions  to  the  pyramids,  preferring  our 
floating  home  to  the  hotel  at  Cairo,  which  would  have 
made  a longer  ride  necessary  every  day  both  morning 
and  evening,  beside  ending  our  pleasant  life  in  the 
Phantom. 

The  pyramids  and  sphinx  are  old  acquaintances  to  all 
readers  of  books  of  travel,  history,  philosophy,  and  relig- 
ion. They  have  done  service  by  way  of  illustration  so 
many  thousand  years,  that  they  seem  old  friends  even  to 
those  who  have  not  seen  them  face  to  rock. 

It  has  been  often  said  that  they  are  not  mentioned  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures.  It  is  indeed  somewhat  surprising 
that  they  are  so  seldom  alluded  to,  but  I can  not  think 
they  are  entirely  omitted. 

Moses,  we  suppose,  wrote  the  book  of  Job.  The  great 
lawgiver  w^as  born  and  educated  under  the  shadow  of 
Cheops,  and  I have  no  doubt  had  those  vast  tombs  in  his 
mind  when  he  placed  in  the  mouth  of  Job,  wishing  for 
death,  that  expression — “Then  had  I been  at  rest,  with 
kings  and  counsellors  of  the  earth  who  built  desolate 
places  for  themselves. 

I shall  not  devote  any  space  in  this  volume  to  a de- 
scription of  the  pyramids,  already  familiar  to  every  intel- 
ligent reader. 

At  the  first  moment  of  reaching  them  we  were  sur- 
rounded, as  travelers  usually  are,  by  scores  of  Arabs, 
demanding  large  pay  to  be  employed  as  guides  and  as- 
sistants. But  we  were  old  hands  at  thrashing  ofi*  the 
fellaheen  Arabs,  and  our  koorbashes,  whistling  over  their 
shoulders,  made  open  space  around  and  largely  dimin- 
ished their  expectations,  as  well  as  reduced  their  nominal 
prices. 

How  w^e,  Miriam  and  myself,  ascended  Cheops  and 


450 


CHEOPS. 


looked  back,  up  tlie  lordly  river,  and  up  the  river  of  time 
as  well,  for  there  is  no  spot  on  earth  from  which  man  can 
see  so  far  into  the  past  as  from  that  same  summit  of 
Cheops,  how  Ave  descended  and  entered  the  heart  of  the 
stone  pile,  with  a crowd  of  vociferating  Arabs,  and  how, 
AAdien  they  had  us  in  the  king’s  chamber  by  the  sarcopha- 
gus, they  sought  to  frighten  us  as  they  had  other  hoAvajjis, 
but  woke  up  the  wrong  ]:>assengers,  if  I may  use  an  Amer- 
icanism, and  hoAV  the  whistling  koorbashes  made  the 
atmosphere  more  clear  and  the  darkness  less  noisy,  how 
Ave  sat  down  under  the  shadow  of  the  s^Dhinx  and  gazed 
at  his  stony  countenance,  whose  calm,  almost  ineffable 
smile,  seems,  among  the  shifting  sands  and  rifled  tombs, 
noAV  too  sneering  for  a smile,  and  now  too  soft,  and  sad, 
and  mournful  for  a sneer,  how  Ave  looked  into  a hundred 
A^acant  resting-j^laces  of  the  old  dead,  and  pondered  much 
on  the  power  of  time  and  the  oblmon  wdth  which  age 
wraps  nations,  as  with  a grave-cloth  and  a grave,  out  of 
AA’hich  their  Amices  come  in  sepulchral  tones ; how,  at 
length  Ave  climbed  Cheops  once  more  and  swept  our  eyes 
over  the  jflain,  and  up  the  Nile,  and  far  aAvay  over  the 
Libyan  desert  to  the  dim  horizon  that  seemed  as  distant 
as  the  days  of  Moses — all  this  he  who  Avould  know  more 
of,  must  seek  in  the  books  of  other  travelers,  since  Ave  did 
but  as  they. 

It  was  the  last  night  on  the  Phantom.  We  pushed 
out  into  the  river  in  the  evening,  and  went  drifting  down 
by  the  island  of  Rhoda,  and  at  length  reached  the  bank 
at  Boulak,  Avhere  Ave  had  set  sail  in  November  previous. 
The  moon  AAms  not  now  on  the  river,  but  the  night  Avas 
starry  and  calm,  and  divinely  beautiful.  No  sounds  an- 
nounced our  approach  to  a great  city.  All  was  still, 
quiet,  profoundly  silent.  The  lapse  of  the  river  among 
the  boats  along  the  shore  Avas  but  audible  silence,  so 
softly  musical  Avas  it,  and  every  thing  conspired  to  sad- 


WE  LEAVE  THE  PHANTOM. 


451 


den  us  on  this  last  evening  of  our  Nile  life.  I have  never 
felt  more  regret  at  leaving  a temporary  home.  We  clung 
to  it  with  the  utmost  affection.  To-morrow  w”e  would  be 
no  longer  in  our  own  house.  Hereafter,  wanderers  once 
more,  at  the  mercy  of  hotels  and  unknowm  servants,  w^e 
could  not  be  willing  to  go. 

Hajji  Mohammed  won  my  heart,  finally  and  forever, 
that  night,  by  a dinner  that  Apicius  might  have  died 
over.  Every  thing  w^as  perfect — magnificent.  We  sat 
long  over  the  wine,  and  then,  on  deck,  in  the  soft  air,  and 
then — slept. 

Dire  w^as  the  confusion  that  awoke  us  in  the  morning. 
A livelier  port  than  Boulak  the  w^orld  can  not  show. 
Thousands  of  voices,  in  a dozen  languages,  rent  the  air, 
and  w'hen  the  sound  at  length  overpowered  my  sleepy 
faculties,  I sprang  up,  astonished  at  finding  myself  once 
more  in  the  world  of  active,  business  men. 

A carriage  w^as  waiting  for  the  ladies,  but  Mohammed 
Olan,  and  Barikat,  and  Achmet  were  on  board  with  their 
donkeys,  and  a thousand  stories  of  what  had  happened 
since  we  left  Cairo,  and  w^e  mounted  the  old  animals,  as 
one  bestrides  his  own  favorite  horse  at  home,  and  cantered 
up  the  avenue  of  sont  and  lebbek,  to  the  Ezbekieh  gate 
and  Williams’s  hotel,  wdiere  our  rooms  w^ere  awaiting  us. 


ifi. 

f|ii5 

They  Avere  a fortnight  of  keen  delight  those  last  two 
weeks  in  Cairo.  There  was  much  that  was  home-like  in 
coming  back  to  a city  in  which  we  had  passed  a month 
of  the  previous  autumn,  and  the  heavy  discounts  of  the 
bankers  were  not  enough  to  spoil  the  pleasure  with  which 
you  talked  with  them  and  allowed  yourself  to  be  shaved 
in  true  western,  'Wall-street  style.  Drafts  on  England 
cost  only  five  per  cent.,  and  it  was  worth  that  to  sign  your 
name  in  respectable  chirography,  instead  of  dirtying  your 
fingers  with  your  seal-ring  and  India  ink  as  I had  been 
doing  for  some  months,  whenever  a paper  required  my 
hand. 

It  was  pleasant  to  meet  the  same  faces  in  the  mouski 
shops  and  in  the  Turkish  bazaars,  to  ride  along  the  shad- 
dowy  streets  and  be  greeted  by  some  old  Turk  who  had 
cheated  you  outrageously  last  fall,  with  a jovial — as  jovial 
as  the  guttural  would  permit — “ Good-morning,  Braheem 
Effendi.” 

It  was  even  gratifying  to  see  the  same  beggars,  and 
when  I sat  under  the  shadow  of  the  lebbek-trees  in  the 
Ezbekieh  and  smoked  calmly  while  Abd-el-Atti  and  Hajji 
Mohammed  were  putting  up  and  taking  down  tents  for 
my  examination,  preparatory  to  our  Syi'ian  journey,  to  be 
interrupted  by  the  same  blind  boy  and  old  woman  that  I 


BUCKSHEESH. 


453 


administered  copper  to  some  months  ago,  with  the  same 
“Backsheesh  Ya  Howajji.” 

It  is  useless  to  resist  the  impression  that  this  demand 
for  backsheesh  is  instinctive  in  the  Arab  character.  It  is 
the  first  word  w^hich  children  utter.  That  I am  con- 
vinced of.  It  is  the  last  on  the  lips  of  the  dying  man,  if 
the  vision  of  a foreigner  crosses  his  failing  sight.  Dr. 
Abbott  vouches  for  the  fact  that  he  attended  an  Arab 
in  a long  and  severe  fit  of  illness  and  cured  him.  When 
the  man  was  well  he  called  on  the  doctor,  as  the  worthy 
physician  supposed  for  the  purpose  of  expressing  his  grati- 
tude for  visits  that  had  been  regular  twice  a day  for  a 
month.  That  he  had  nothing  but  gratitude  to  give,  the 
doctor  well  knew. 

“ I am  well,”  said  the  man. 

“Yes — I am  glad  to  see  it — you  are  well.” 

“ I am  well,”  repeated  the  Arab. 

“ Yes,  so  I see.  Thank  God  for  it,”  said  the  doctor. 

“Yes — but — isn’t  there  any  thing  more?  You  see  I 
am  well.” 

“ Certainly  I see  you  are  well,  and  you  have  had  a hard 
time  of  it.  Go  to  -svork  now  and  keep  well.” 

“ But  isn’t  there  any  thing  more  ?” 

“ More — more — what  more  ?” 

BiicksJieeshP'^ 

“ For  wFat  ?” 

“ For  the  experience  you  have  had  in  curing  me !” 

“ I had  cured  him  for  nothing  and  paid  for  his  medi- 
cines, and  the  dog  came  to  me  for  bucTcsheesh  said  the 
doctor. 

Xor  W’as  this  a solitary  instance  in  his  practice. 

There  are  some  places  in  and  around  Cairo  w^hich,  you 
will  not  need  to  be  told,  I revisited  with  new  delight. 
There  are  ^daces  in  which  it  seems  to  me  now  I would  be 
content  to  doze  away  a life-time. 


454 


TOBACCO  AND  KIEF. 


First  of  all  I sought  out  my  old  friend  Suleiman  in  the 
bazaars  'vvithin  the  chains.  He  welcomed  me  with  a “ sa- 
laam aleikoum,”  an  honor  forbidden  to  be  wasted  on  a 
Christian  and  so  much  the  more  to  be  prized.  Seated  on 
his  shop-front  with  the  same  chibouk,  the  same  tiny  cups 
of  coffee,  the  same  calm  old  eyes  looking  into  mine,  I 
could  not  believe  that  even  a week  had  elapsed  since  I was 
last  there  and  that  I had  meantime  been  far  beyond  the 
barriers  of  Syene. 

The  blue  smoke  curled  up  in  the  lofty  aisle  of  the 
bazaars,  and  the  soft  sunshine  stole  in  on  it  and  lit  it  up 
in  graceful  forms  that  floated  before  me  as  I sat  and 
dreamed.  There  were  outlines  of  fair  and  gentle  persons 
in  the  solemn  air,  delicate  outlines  of  rare  beauty.  There 
were  blue  eyes  gazing  out  of  indescribable  distances  on 
me  (how  well  I knew  those  eyes  of  blue  !)  There  were  a 
hundred  shapes  and  shades  in  the  air  above  and* around 
me.  I could  have  rested  there  a century  in  that  delicious 
kief,  that  no  man  may  know  in  any  other  spot  on  earth. 

I know  what  it  is  to  lie  down  on  the  desert  sand  in  the 
sunshine  when  the  air  is  cool  and  lifegiving,  and  the  sun- 
shine warm  and  heavenly.  I know  what  it  is  to  swing  in 
my  hammock  on  a long  sea,  with  the  breeze  well  off  on 
the  quarter  and  home  right  in  on  the  lee  bow.  I have 
smoked  Tombak  .in  silver  narghilehs  in  the  kiosks  of  Da- 
mascus, and  Stamboul  tobacco  by  the  sunny  side  of  the 
tomb  of  Sultan  Mahmoud  in  Constantinople.  I have 
drank  lager-bier  with  the  stoutest  of  Prussians  in  Prussia, 
have  sipped  golden  Ivourne  and  flavored  it  with  the 
pleasantest  of  Swiss  tobacco  in  the  Alpine  valleys  ; I have 
— I have  smoked  tobacco  everywhere  that  my  wander- 
ings in  many  years  have  led  me,  many  kinds  and  flavors 
thereof  I know,  and  I have  lounged,  and  dozed,  and 
dreamed,  and  slept  in  very  many  lands.  But  there  is  no 
spot  on  all  the  world’s  surface  to  which  I look  back  with 


SELIM  PASHA’S  LOVE. 


455 


a memory  of  such  perfect  calm  delight,  such  undisturbed 
repose  of  mind  and  body  as  the  shop-front  of  Suleiman 
Effendi  in  the  bazaar  within  the  chains  in  Cairo  the  Vic- 
torious. 

Seated  there  one  afternoon,  I saw  old  Selim  Pasha  stalk 
by  followed  by  his  retainers,  and  by  diligent  questioning 
I got  from  Suleiman  enough  to  confirm  a story  I had  be- 
fore heard,  on  what  I supposed  good  authority.  It  is 
Very  difficult  to  persuade  a Mussulman  to  repeat  a story 
of  his  neighbor’s  wives.  Scarcely  ever,  indeed,  is  a female 
name  mentioned  by  their  lips.  In  fact,  not  in  one  instance 
in  a hundred  does  a man  know  the  names  of  his  most  in- 
timate friend’s  wives,  or  any  of  them.  The  hareem  is  a 
forbidden  subject  of  conversation  under  all  circumstances, 
and  to  ask  a Moslem  if  his  wife  is  w'ell  would  be  insulting 
and  unpardonable. 

The  romance  of 'the  hareem  is  well-nigh  ended  forever. 
But  once  in  a while  a true  history  comes  out  with  start- 
ling efiTect,  as  its  incidents  become  known,  and  we  begin 
to  fancy  the  days  of  the  Arabian  Nights  not*wholly  gone. 
Such  is  this  story  of  Selim  Pasha,  governor  of  Upper 
Egypt  under  Mohammed  Ali. 

He  was  a Circassian  slave,  in  high  favor  under  that 
great  prince.  Young,  noble,  ardent,  and  brave,  he  won 
the  afifection  of  his  master  and  lord,  and  was  always  near 
his  heart.  Well  he  might  be.  No  hand  was  so  cunning 
with  the  sword,  so  firm  on  the  rein,  so  steadfast  in  the 
battle.  No  foot  was  so  strong  in  the  stirrup,'  so  swift  to 
do  liis  master’s  will,  so  constant  at  the  palace  door.  Step 
by  step  he  rose,  as  slaves  often  rise  in  the  East,  from  his 
low  estate  to  honor,  wealth,  and  fame.  Still  he  was  young, 
and  still  unmarried.  Whether  in  the  restless  dream  of 
his  ambition,  for  he  was  ambitious,  there  w'ere  ever  min- 
gled memories  of  his  mountain  home  and  the  beloved 
ones  of  his  infant  years,  whether  in  the  battle  under  the 


456 


SELIM  PASHA’S  LOVE. 


j^yramids  he  heard  the  voice  of  his  mother  as  he  had 
heard  it  in  far-off  Circassia,  calling  him  back  to  a peace- 
ful home,  whether  m the  desert  fray,  when  the  sun  was 
hot  on  his  head,  and  the  faint  blood  lay  heavy  in  his 
heart,  he  remembered  the  cool  breezes  that  used  to  steal 
down  from  the  snow-capped  mountains,  and  the  delicious 
streams  that  murmured  at  his  feet  in  long  gone  years, 
none  may  tell  now.  I have  sometimes  thought  that  even 
now,  when  he  is  old  and  gray  and  passes  feebly  along  the 
streets  of  Cairo,  surrounded  by  his  hordes  of  attendants, 
those  memories  must  haunt  him  with  fearful  jDower. 

He  had  never  loved.  The  old  viceroy  was  of  a gentle 
turn  of  mind  occasionally,  and  he  bethought  him  to  make 
Selim’s  home  a happier  one.  He  knew  a young  and 
strangely  beautiful  woman,  who  would  be  worth  his 
loving.  True,  she  had  lain  in  his  own  arms,  and  was  his 
slave ; but  his  embraces  were  forced.  She  did  not  love 
him,  and  oriental  custom  permitted  and  sanctioned  the 
giving  her  to  his  slave  Selim  as  his  wife.  Her  fame  had 
already  reached  his  ears,  and  he  had  sometimes  wished  to 
see  her.  She  had  seen  him.  Had  watched  from  the  lat- 
tices when  he  came  and  went,  had  waved  unknown,  un- 
counted kisses  to  the  sjdendid  soldier,  the  young  and 
noble  slave.  It  was  a moment  of  untold  joy  to  her  when 
she  learned  that  she  was  free  from  the  hated  embraces  of 
the  old  pasha,  and  w^as  to  be  the  wife  of  Selim.  He  was 
her  first  and  only  love. 

Love  is  not  here  what  men  call  love  in  cold  western 
climates.  This  is  the  land  w^here  love  climbs  turrets, 
scales  fortresses,  swims  rivers,  destroys  cities.  This  is  the 
land  of  Helen  and  Cleopatra. 

Great  was  the  rejoicing  in  Cairo  the  Beautiful,  when  the 
wedding  was  announced,  and  great  the  preparation  for  its 
celebration.  Selim  was  most  glad  of  all.  From  a hun- 
dred directions  came  tales  of  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of 


SELIM  PASHA’S  LOVE. 


457 


his  promised  bride,  for  although  no  men’s  eyes  ever  saw 
her  face,  it  was  not  difficult  through  other  men’s  wives  to 
hear  every  line  of  her  features  described,  and,  though  all 
this  was  fifty  years  ago,  there  are  many  whom  I have  seen 
who  remember  the  splendor  of  that  beauty  as  described 
by  those  who  had  seen  it.  She  was  of  the  rare  mould  of 
the  eastern  Venus,  a worthy  representative  of  Helen  the 
beautiful.  She  was  not  tall,  but  exquisitely  formed,  her 
limbs  the  very  soul  of  grace,  her  eyes  wells  of  love*  and 
glory,  her  lips  the  ruby  portals  of  maddening  kisses. 
Alas,  how  a half  century  has  changed  the  beauty  of  Hafiza 
the  beloved ! 

He  could  not  see  her  face  till  she  was  his  own.  Such 
is  the  eastern  custom.  The  man  knows  nothing  of  the 
features  of  his  bride  until  she  is  shut  up  in  his  house  and 
left  to  his  care  and  love.  That  is  a fearful  moment  for 
the  wife  when  her  features  are  for  the  first  time  exposed 
to  his  gaze. 

Great  were  the  feasts  and  magnificent  the  presents 
which  did  honor  to  the  nuptials.  Mohammed  Ali  loaded 
them  with  his  bounty,  and  Cairo  rang  with  music,  laugh- 
ter, and  song,  from  the  citadel  to  the  gate  of  the  Ezbe- 
kieh,  as  the  procession  marched  in  state  from  the  royal 
residence  to  the  palace  of  Selim,  where  he  waited  her 
coming. 

They  were  alone  together,  and  he  knelt  before  her  and 
with  trembling  hands  threw  back  the  vail  that  hid  her 
from  his  eager  gaze. 

He  had  not  dreamed  of  it,  it  was  so  gloriously  beauti- 
ful. Her  forehead  was  white  as  the  forehead  he  saw 
when  he  did  dream  of  his  mother,  and  her  eyes  were 
bluer  and  deeper  than  the  sky  of  Araby  the  Blessed. 
The  brown  hair  rolled  back  like  a river  of  jewels  from 
her  splendid  head,  and  her  lips  were — he  thought  not  of 
her  lips  an  instant  after  they  had  whispered  “ Selim,  my 

20 


458 


BELIM  pasha’s  LOVE. 


beloved,”  and  she  lay  close  against  bis  breast  and  wept 
the  life  of  her  joy  out  on  his  heart. 

TV"hat  strange  thrill  was  that  that  shot  through  his 
brain  when  she  spoke,  and  made  him  clasp  her  closer  to 
his  breast  ? It  was  a voice  he  had  heard  in  all  his 
dreams.  It  was  a voice  he  had.  loved  in  all  his  wander- 
ings. Doubtless  it  was  the  prophet’s  goodness  that  had 
permitted  him  to  hear  her  speak  who  was  to  be  his  wife, 
though  he  did  not  knov/  it  then. 

But  what  was  there  in  that  blue  eye  that  so  bewildered 
him.  Had  he  seen  her  in  dreams  as  well  as  heard  her 
voice  ? 

They  spoke  of  all  the  past  and  tried  to  oj^eii  up  the 
A'istas  of  their  early  years,  each  to  the  other’s  gaze. 

She  was  from  Circassia. 

And  he ! 

She  remembered  her  home.  It  was  in  a valley  of  the 
fairest  part  of  that  land  and  a stream  of  water  flowed 
down  by  the  door  and  dashed  over  rocks  a hundred  yards 
below. 

How  like  his  boyhood’s  home  ! 

Xever  had  the  names  of  familiar  2daces  seemed  to  him 
so  musical  as  they  now  sounded  from  her  lips. 

But  when  she  named  her  father  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  at  her  mother’s  name  he  called  on  Allah  ! 

Like  a flood  swept  over  him  the  terrible  discovery. 
He  seized  her  in  his  arms,  tore  from  her  bosom  the  cov- 
ering that  concealed  a mark  he  remembered  in  childhood, 
and  thrust  her  from  him  with  a cry  of  anguish. 

She  was  his  sister ! 

Selim  Pasha  sought  service  in  a distant  field  and  lived 
to  be  an  old  man,  and  withal  to  become  a tyrant.  His 
sister  married  another  man,  and  is  still  resident  in  Cairo, 
where  Selim  Pasha  also  resides  since  he  ceased  to  be  gov- 
ernor of  Upper  Egypt. 


POVERTY. 


459 


The  story  is  fully  credited  in  Cairo,  and  there  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  its  correctness.  I give  it  on  the  faith  of 
the  shop-front  of  Suleiman  Effendi  in  the  bazaars  within 
the  chains. 

There  was  another  spot,  outside  the  walls  of  Cairo,  to 
which  1 was  accustomed  to  resort  with  Miriam  in  the  af- 
ternoons, to  watch  the  sunset  beyond  the  pyramids. 
There,  on  tlie  last  evening  of  our  stay  in  Cairo,  we  rode 
with  Whitely,  who  had  now  joined  us. 

It  is  a high  hill  of  pottery,  on  the  north  side  of  the  city, 
commanding  the  desert  eastward,  as  well  as  the  Xile 
valley. 

Forever,  in  this  miserable  land,  you  are  interrupted  in 
your  holiest  thoughts  by  something  that  drives  sentiment 
to  the  winds.  If  you  see  a fine  marble,  a splendid  col- 
umn, lying  in  the  dust,  a stone  covered  with  hieroglyphics, 
or  any  thing  on  which  your  eye  rests  with  interest,  it  is 
certain  that  before  your  thoughts  are  fairly  in  the  train 
you  wish,  some  Arab  woman  will  be  sitting  on  it*  with  a 
girl  kneeling  before  her,  while  she  investigates  the  con- 
tents of  her  bushy  hair  with  her  fingers.  In  the  most 
splendid  mosks  you  see  the  most  filthy  persons ; and 
even  in  the  gorgeous  mosk  of  Mohammed  Ali,  where 
silver  itself  seems  out  of  place,  half-naked  and  vilely  dirty 
Arabs  lounge  in  and  out  with  curious  eyes,  making  the 
air  foul  with  their  presence.  The  miserable, ' abject, 
wretched  appearance  of  nine  tenths  of  tlie  population  of 
Egypt  beggars  description.  Clothing  they  have  almost 
none,  and  such  as  they  have  but  adds  to  the  misery  of 
their  looks. 

I saw  a man  bathing  near  the  base  of  the  hill.  When 
he  came  from  the  water  and  took  up  his  solitary  garment 
to  put  it  on  it  was  ludicrous  to  see  his  perplexity.  Some- 
where in  it  th.ere  was,  or  had  been,  a hole,  intended  to 
admit  of  the  passage  of  his  head,  but  he  could  not  find  it 


460 


RICH  SOIL. 


among  the  others.  He  tried  it  once,  and  it  went  through 
the  wrong  place.  He  tried  it  again  with  no  better  suc- 
cess. I left  him  trying  it.  I doubt  whether  he  ever  suc- 
ceeded. 

The  brief  twilight  hastened  along.  The  camel-train 
from  Suez  came  more  rapidly,  but  its  end  stretched  far 
away  toward  the  desert.  On  the  western  horizon  the 
majestic  outlines  of  the  pyramids  broke  the  line ; Ceph- 
renes,  as  ahvays,  looking  over  Cheoj)s. 

I had  devoted  much  time  that  day  to  a task  set  for 
myself  in  Cairo — seeking  some  memorial  of  the  burial- 
place  of  John  Ledyard,  the  American  traveler.  I knew 
only  that  he  died  in  a convent and  in  my  former  visit  I 
had  inquired  at  all  the  convents,  but  utterly  in  vain.  Ho 
records,  no  books,  notes,  minutes — nothing  remained  of 
him.*  I found  an  old  man,  one  about  old  enough  to  have 
been  there  when  he  died,  and  I talked  with  him;  but  his 
wits  were  wandering,  and  he  was  of  no  use  to  me. 

It  was  only  left  to  me  to  stand,  as  on  this  hill,  and  sweep 
my  eyes  around  the  city  walls,  and  know  that  of  this  dust 
his  dust  formed  part.  That  somewhere  beneath  the 
changing  mounds  that  stout  heart  was  loosed  of  all  its 
bands.  He  Vv^as  a man  of  noble  hope,  never-to-be-satished 
ambition.  Lo  ! here  the  end  of  it  all — death  among 
strangers,  and  burial  among  dogs  ! 

I did  not  heed  that  evening  stole  over  us,  as  we  sat  on 
the  mound  of  broken  pottery.  Two  skulls  lay  white  and 
ghastly  in  the  moonlight,  and  sundry  powerless  bones  of 
human  limbs  scattered  here  and  there  around  us;  as  if 
dogs  had  dragged  them  from  graves. 

Probably  no  soil  on  the  earth’s  surface  has  been  so  often 
made  over  in  the  image  of  God  as  this  same  soil  of  Egypt; 
and  that  has  sanctified  it.  It  is  this  that  makes  hallowed 
ground.  It  is  not  because  Abraham  was  here ; not  be- 
cause old  Israel  was  here;  not  because  the  Pharaohs 


A FANCY. 


4G1 


shook  off  this  clay  from  their  sandals  not  because  Solon, 
Plato,  Aristotle,  Herodotus,  or  a hundred  other  philoso- 
phers and  historians  have  walked  along  these  banks ; not 
even  because  Mary  and  her  holy  Child  sat  under  the  shade 
of  the  trees  of  the  valley.  Not  for  any  one,  nor  all  these 
things  that  I honor  and  love  it. 

“ Why  then  ?”  said  Miriam ; and  for  the  first  time  I 
knew  that  I had  been  thinking  aloud. 

“ Listen,  my  child,  and  I will  tell  you.  More  than  three 
thousand  years  ago  there  was  a scene  just  here  that  you 
have  often  read  of,  but  perhaps  have  never  before  fully 
aj^preciated.  You  see  that  rocky  hill,  and  the  desert  road 
around  its  base.  You  see  the  camels  treading  it  with  slow 
steps.  It  is  now  forty  centuries  since  the  grandson  of  Noah 
broke  that  path  in  the  sand,  and  left  the  first  human  foot- 
prints on  it.  It  was  then,  as  now,  bright  sand.  The  foot 
of  Misraim  sank  deep  in  it.  That  rock  was  then  as  brown 
and  red  as  now,  and  the  shadow  fell  in  the  morning  on 
the  shore  of  the  great  river  as  it  fell  to-day.  Then  the 
pathway  was  worn  ; and  year  by  year,  and  century  by 
century,  the  sand  grew  hard  under  frequent  footsteps, 
and  men  by  millions  had  trodden  it  down. 

“At  length  there  came  over  that  road  a caravan,  in  which 
there  were  men  of  stately  presence  and  women  of  rare 
and  glorious  beauty.  They  knew  not,  the  Egyptians 
knew  not,  the  world  knew  not,  that  in  that  procession 
was  more  of  royalty,  more  of  magnificence,  more  of  splen- 
dor, than  all  the  courts  of  all  the  Pharaohs  could  boast, 
though  it  was  but  the  train  of  an  old  and  worn  man,  with 
his  sons  and  their  descendants,  seeking  the  face  of  a lost 
son  and  brother  who  had  risen  to  power  and  position  in 
the  land  of  Egypt.  They  paused  yonder  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  and  waited  for  messengers  from  the  palace  to 
direct  their  footsteps  to  a resting-place.  Examine  them 
more  closely.  The  old  man,  the  father  of  the  three-score 


462 


ABRAHAM. 


and  ten  "svlio  surroimd  him,  is  of  kingly  presence  and 
bearing,  his  eye  looking  as  it  learned  to  look  when  he 
once  saw  heaven  open  and  the  angels  of  God  entering  its 
brilliant  portals.  His  sons  were  giant  men ; every  man  fit 
to  be  father  of  a race  of  kings.  It  is  of  those  sons  I would 
speak.  There  was  stalwart  J udah,  the  lion  of  his  family ; 
there  was  the  mighty  Reuben,  and  the  cruel  Simeon ; 
there  was  the  beloved  Benjamin  ; and,  while  they  wait, 
the  first  lord  of  Egypt,  attended  by  a royal  train,  comes 
to  meet  them,  and  throws  his  arms  around  the  old  man’s 
neck,  and  kneels  before  him  for  his  blessing.  Yes,  the 
air  that  is  so  still  around  us  now,  that  lies  so  calmly  on 
this  desert  plain,  has  heard  the  voice  of  Joseph,  and  has 
trembled  on  the  li|3s  of  Israel. 

• “ There  is  no  point  in  all  the  history  of  the  race  of  man 
that  possesses  to  me  a more  profound  interest  than  this. 
A century  before,  the  altar  of  Abraham  among  the  oaks 
of  Mamre  was  the  only  altar  on  earth  erected  to  the  true 
God.  And  now,  while  those  two  embraced,  and  the  group 
gathered  closely  around  them,  yonder,  on  the  sand  of  the 
desert,  within  the  sound  of  the  feeble  voice  of  Jacob, 
stood  every  man  that  was  living  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
who  acknowledged  and  worshiped  the  God  that  made  it. 

“ But  it  is  not  this  that  sanctifies  the  land  to  me.  Years 
lied  apace  in  those  old  days,  and  men  lived,  loved,  and 
died,  much  as  they  now  do.  A century  passed  away 
after  this  scene  of  which  I have  spoken.  The  bones  of 
Joseph  lay  waiting  the  exodus.  But,  somewhere  in  this 
dust  of  the  valley  of  Egypt,  somewhere  along  this  narrow 
strip  of  land,  lay  the  dead  dust  of  Judah,  of  Levi,  of 
Simeon,  of  Manasseh,  and  Ephraim,  and  of  the  beloved 
Benjamin.  Think  of  it.  This  that  I hold  in  my  hand, 
this  grain  of  dust,  may  have  been  part  and  parcel  of  the 
clay  that  throbbed  against  the  heart  of  Joseph  ; may  have 
grasped  the  sword  of  Judah  ; may  have  felt  the  pressure 


THE  WIFE  OF  MANASSEH. 


463 


of  the  hands  of  blind  old  Jacob.  Yes;  this  very  dust 
may  have  heard  syllabled  those  sublime  prophecies  that 
told  of  the  glories  of  the  twelve  tribes,  and  the  coming  of 
their  Lord  at  last.  We  will  follow  some  day  the  dust 
that  is  not  here,  and  seek  it  among  the  flowers  of  Canaan. 
But,  now,  I think  this  delicate  mimosa,  this  tree  of  rare 
and  beautiful  foliage,  must  have  sj^rung  first  from  the 
dust  of  Benjamin,  and  that  stately  lebbek  may  have 
found  root  over  the  grave  of  Simeon.  jSTone  but  a palm 
could  grow  of  dust  that  formed  the  lion-heart  of  Judah. 
It  is  this  that  makes  Egypt  sacred  to  me.  They  are 
somewhere  here,  all  those  eleven  giant  sons  of  Jacob  ; all 
here  in  the  valley,  within  sound  of  the  cannon  from  yon- 
der citadel. 

“Yay,  more  than  this.  Xot  alone  the  fathers  of  that 
mighty  race  lie  in  this  soil,  but  their  mothers  as  well. 
There  were  fair  and  beautiful  "women  that  lay  in  the  arms 
'of  those  stout  men,  whose  lips  were  accustomed  to  their 
caresses,  whose  arms  often  enfolded  them,  on  whose  fair 
breasts  they  laid  their  flowing  locks.  Somewhere  under 
this  ground,  lies  the  queenly  wife  of  Joseph  ; and  some- 
where here  the  dark-eyed  wife  of  Ephraim.  Perhaps  they 
are  not  dust.  Perhaps — does  it  not  startle  you  to  think 
of  it — perhaps,  ten  feet  below  this  very  sj^ot  where  "we  sit, 
stern,  solemn,  calm,  as  in  his  life,  four  thousand  years 
ago,  lies  the  tall  form  and  massive  arm  of  Judah ; his 
features  set  in  that  last  long  gaze  with  which  he  looked 
into  the  loving  eyes  of  Joseph  bending  over  him.  What 
would  you  give  to  see  that  look  of  love  and  penitence  ?” 

“ Let  us  dig,”  exclaimed  Miriam. 

“ Perhaj^s  beneath  us  lies  the  fragile  form  of  the  young 
maiden  that  loved  Manasseh.  I have  sometimes  thought  of 

o 

her,  and  wondered  that  no  one  else  had  named  or  thought 
of  the  mother  of  Machir.  She  was — she  was — let  us  im- 
agine it — the  daughter  of  Benjamin,  a girl  of  fair  and  splen- 


464 


JOSEPH  AND  BENJAMIN. 


did  beauty.  In  the  long  moonlight  nights  of  Egypt,  the 
light  of  yonder  moon,  that  rests  now  on  the  Mokattam 
hills,  Joseph  and  his  brother  walked  together  and  looked  at 
the  crags  of  that  same  hill,  and  the  elder  told  the  younger 
of  the  beauty  and  majesty  of  their  queenly  mother,  whom 
Benjamin  never  knew,  and  of  her  gentleness;  and  how,  in 
her  young  girlhood,  a shepherdess  on  the  plains  of  the 
East,  she  won  their  father’s  heart ; and  how  old  Jacob,  in 
his  age,  was  yet  willing  to  serve  her  father  seven  years 
of  his  life  for  the  love  he  bare  her,  that  made  the  years 
seem  but  as  days ; and  how,  in  her  glad  beauty,  she  was 
like — so  very  like — to  Rachel,  his  own  beloved  daughter, 
that  was  in  the  grove  behind  them ; and  then,  to  see  his 
mother  once  again,  to  look  into  her  dear  eyes  again,  to 
think  himself  not  now  the  lord  of  Egypt,  but  the  boy 
of  Canaan,  he  called  to  him  the  daughter  of  his  brother, 
and  she  came,  closely  followed  by  Manasseh,  and  he 
looked  into  her  black  fathomless  eyes,  and  took  her  hands 
in  his,  and  as  he  sat  by  the  fountain,  looked  up  at  her 
tall,  slender  form  and  SjDeaking  face,  and  fancied  that  he 
saw  the  dawn  that  always  shone  on  the  brow  of  his  dead 
mother.  When  she  looked  thus,  he  knew  that  it  was 
love  of  him  that  shone  on  her  forehead  from  her  radiant 
eyes ; but  whom  could  this  child  love  ? 

“ ‘ Thou  hast  never  loved  yet,  Rachel  ?’ 

“ ‘ I love  Manasseh.’ 

“iSTo  simpler  story  could  be  told;  none  more  full  of 
meaning.  The  brothers  smiled  each  in  the  other’s  eyes, 
and  so  it  was  all  settled,  and  they  left  the  young  lovers 
in  the  grove,  and  the  moon  went  onward  from  the  Mo- 
kattam hills  to  the  pyramids. 

“It  was  a royal  wedding.  E'ever  was  such  before  or 
since  in  Egypt,  as  that  when  Joseph’s  son  married  the 
daughter  of  Benjamin.  Doubtless,  as  now,  they  made 
processions  in  the  streets,  and  there  was  much  of  pomp 


ONE  WHO  SAW  MOSES. 


465 


and  ceremony,  and  the  pyramids  and  the  eastern  hills 
were  lit  with  the  blaze  of  beacons,  that  told  all  Egypt, 
from  Elephantine  to  the  sea,  that  their  lord  and  benefactor 
rejoiced  in  his  palace.  Perhaps  she  slumbers  here ! Who 
knows  how  near  us  are  the  beloved  features  that  Avear  in 
death  the  look  that  Rachel  wore  Avhen  she  closed  her 
dark  eyes  at  Bethlehem. 

“Laugh  who  Avill,  but  this  is  no  land  for  laughing  at  even 
these  imaginations.  Your  veriest  skeptic  m antiquity 
stands  respectully  before  the  doors  of  modern  tombs  that 
are  opened  here,  and  admits  the  reckoning  of  forty  cen- 
turies, while  the  stoutest  arguments  of  infidelity  are 
directed,  not  at  the  supposed  antiquity  of  the  remains 
Ave  have  found  here,  but  at  their  want  of  antiquity.  Xo 
man  disputes  that  they  are  at  least  four  thousand  years 
old.  The  only  other  claim  is  that  they  are  nearer  forty 
thousand.  It  is  Avell  known  that  mummies  have  been 
taken  from  the  tombs  of  the  valley  that  must  ante-date 
the  Exodus.  There  is  one  standing  in  the  collection  of 
Dr.  Abbott,  in  N’cav  York,  that  is  of  the  period  of  Moses 
and  Aaron — a Avoman  Avho,  from  her  princely  titles,  may 
well  ha\m  been  one  Avho  had  seen  the  great  laAA^giver, 
and  had  stood  by  the  bones  of  Joseph.  Why  then 
doubt  that  in  some  great  tomb  under  this  ground,  in 
some  mighty  room  built  by  the  servants  of  Joseph,  some 
cavernous  sepulchre  Avhose  arches  are  on  granite  columns 
set  in  the  solid  rock,  stand,  side  by  side,  eleven  grand 
sarcophagi,  carved  Avith  the  names  that  the  high  priest 
of  the  temple  Avore  on  his  ephod,  and  in  them,  man  by 
man,  waiting  in  solemn  silence  the  Amice  of  Joseph  and 
the  angel,  lie  Judah  and  his  brethren! 

I am  aAvare  that  some  persons,  reasoning  from  a pas- 
sage in  the  seventh  chapter  of  Acts,  hold  that  the  twelve 
sons  of  Jacob  were  brought  up  into  Canaan  by  the 
Israelites  AALen  they  brought  up  the  bones  of  Joseph. 


466 


Joseph’s  brethren. 


It  is  certainly  very  improbable  that  Moses  would  omit 
such  an  important  item  in  his  history  of  the  pilgrimage, 
when  he  carefully  speaks  of  the  body  of  Joseph  and 
its  fate.  In  Exodus  xiii.  19,  the  reason  for  removing 
Joseph  is  given  as  the  oath  he  had  himself  required,  and 
certainly  had  his  brethren  been  removed  their  translation 
would  here  be  alluded  to. 

The  passage  in  Acts  is  not  historical,  nor  intended  to 
be  so,  for  it  is  manifestly  incorrect  in  other  respects. 

“ So  Jacob  went  down  into  Egypt  and  died,  he  and 
our  fathers,  and  were  carried  over  into  Sychem,  and  laid 
in  the  sepulchre  that  Abraham  bought  for  a sum  of 
money  of  the  sons  of  Emmor,  the  father  of  Sychem.” 

Jacob  was  not  carried  over  into  Sychem,  nor  did 
Abraham  buy  the  sepulchre.  There  is  probably  an  in- 
terpolation here,  or  some  error  in  the  early  copies  of 
Luke’s  manuscript.  ~No  tradition  now  exists  at  or  near 
Sychem  that  the  patriarchs  were  buried  there.  A learned 
Jewish  Rabbi,  to  whom  I have  lately  mentioned  the  sub- 
ject, tells  me  that  he  has  no  idea  that  the  patriarchs, 
other  than  Joseph,  were  ever  removed  from  Egypt. 

I have  already  wandered  on  beyond  what  I said  in  my 
preachment  to  Miriam  and  Whitely,  and  the  curious  gap- 
ing donkey-boys,  who  seemed  to  be  overpowered  by  the 
unexpected  eloquence  of  Ilowajji  Braheem. 

From  the  far  past  to  the  far  future,  the  change  of 
thought  is  necessarily  instantaneous.  The  mind  rests 
with  intense  interest  on  a point  in  that  future,  which  is 
the  only  one  that  human  foresight  can  with  any  certainty 
fix — I mean  the  day  when  God  shall  summon  up  the  dead 
of  this  valley  to  stand  among  the  living  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. What  an  awakening  will  that  be ! I know 
no  spot  on  all  the  surface  of  the  earth  where  the  scene 
will  be  like  this.  The  followers  of  the  prophet,  the 
swarthy  Bedouins,  the  black  Nubians,  the  bearded  Turks,^, 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


t67 


and  the  pale  Circassians — millions  on  millions  will  rise 
from  this  dust  which  contains  their  generations  for  a 
thousand  years,  and  start  in  horror  to  find  the  places 
from  which,  in  their  proud  self-religion,  they  drove  all 
other  creeds  as  false  and  infidel,  already  occupied,  crowd- 
ed, and  overflowing  with  the  men  of  Memphis  and  an- 
cient On!  The  men  of  the  Pharaohs  Avill  see  amonc: 
their  dark-browed  host  a few  tall  forms  and  calm  faces 
uplifted  to  the  heavens,  and  will  be  awed  to  silence  at  the 
majestic  appearance  of  the  men  they  trampled  on  and 
despised.  The  very  sand  of  the  desert  wdll  sjDring  to 
life.  If  it  could  but  now  do  so ! If  the  lips  that  are  dust 
here  now  under  my  feet  would  but  syllable  words ! 

At  length  my  arrangements  were  complete.  The  tents 
were  pronounced  perfect.  The  same  servants  enlisted  for 
a Syrian  journey,  and  I sent  them  with  the  heavy  lug- 
gage to  Alexandria,  where  I overtook  them  the  next  day. 
A week  after  that,  our  camp  shone  in  the  white  moon- 
light on  the  shore  outside  the  walls  of  Joppa,  and  I be- 
gan my  TENT  LIFE  IN  THE  HOLT  LAND. 


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APPENDIX 


A. 

A SKETCH  OF  THE  HISTORY,  RELIGION, 
AND  WRITTEN  LANGUAGE  OF 
ANCIENT  EGYPT. 


B. 

.ADVICE  TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


20* 


t:  ■ 


: ■■  t’ 

- iFV 


• r>/ 


:>?;:-*'>l  SU;  i'- 


S^T'V  V 


•n  Uj  /< 


Ivi] 


J 

k . r- 


' i=  *v't.  V ‘.i-^* . X '-V#C/X  *#»-;  • 


■:  , v'  r - . --v  ~ , ... 

• . -.  ‘ ■ "OT.  ' •■■-'ss»i 


■J» 


*•-<  - ' *.!.•  ' 

-.-.rv.*: 


.5 


,J  £ty  •i*^» . .j 


'r^ 

■ ' :■  • ' 

:l-  ■ . •--.••  , .>4^'  ■ ^ 

r-  ' '-  ‘"  • ■■'■'. 

*■■..•'••-  • • .'  .'  :->,-r.'/  l.'Vt:  ■ 

iuii  '-'.  :l\:  . . ■ -^juTSti^ 


■.^  " J 


; 


■-S 


A. 


SKETCH  OF  THE  HISTOEY,  RELIGIOH,  AND  WRITTEN 
LANGUAGE  OF  ANCIENT  EGYPT. 


I.— HISTORY. 

He  who  would  maintain  that  any  one  of  the  oriental  nations  is 
older  than  all  others,  must  be  prepared  to  combat  the  theories  of 
various  scholars,  supported  with  an  amount  of  learning,  ingenuity, 
and  earnestness,  sufficient  to  appall  any  one  but  a thorough  student 
in  eastern  languages,  literature,  and  history.  That  the  Sanscrit  is 
the  root  of  aU  languages,  may  seem  plausible  until  a Hindoo  scholar 
demolishes  our  theory,  with  what  is  probably  very  intelligible  to 
him,  but  is  all  Hindoo  to  us.  That  Nineveh  was  built  close  by,  and 
close  after  the  tower  of  Babel,  is  certainly  a very  probable  idea, 
until  some  learned  Brahmin  or  Chinaman  shows  you  up  a city 
that  must  antedate  tlie  creation  itself,  if  Bishop  Usher’s  chronol- 
ogy be  correct,  and  proves  his  creed  thereabouts  by  a mass  of  strange 
characters  and  inscriptions,  pages  of  black  letter  work  and  oriental 
roots,  sooner  than  attempt  any  argument  against  which  you,  unless 
much  set  in  your  opinions,  rather  yield  at  once,  and  admit  that  it 
must  be  true,  and  all  that  must  prove  something. 

It  is  unsafe,  therefore  to  wliisper,  even  privately,  to  your  friend, 
that  Egypt  is  the  oldest  nation  in  the  world.  I tried  it  once,  on 
the  quarter-deck  of  a steamer,  in  the  moonlight  of  an  evening  at 
sea,  running  down  the  banks.  A learned  pundit  overheard  me, 
and  knocked  me  down,  in  the  saloon,  an  hour  afterward,  when  I 
went  below  for  coffee  and  a bone,  with  such  an  array  of  Sinaitic 
and  Semitic,  Cuneiform  and  no  form  inscriptions,  all  which  he  drew 
on  the  mahogany  with  weak  black-tea — no  sugar  in  it — and  the 
point  of  a silver  fork,  and  having  got  me  down,  there  was  no  let- 


472 


HISTORY. 


up  till  I admitted  that  Egypt  was  the  youngest  of  the  old  nations, 
beyond  a doubt,  and  so  got  rid  of  him. 

But  Egypt  is  the  father  of  nations,  for  all  that,  and  from  Egypt 
Greek  and  European  civilization  traces  its  genealogy,  nor  is  it  pos- 
sible to  show  that  Egyptian  mythology,  pliilosophy,  or  life,  had  its 
origin  in  any  other  nation  known  to  history,  or  'to  that  geology  of 
history,  if  I may  be  pardoned  the  expression,  which  digs  among 
the  bones  of  nations,  the  accumulated  strata  of  the  early  years,  for 
relics  of  Megatherian  nations,  or  shapes  and  moulds  of  extinct 
and  unrecorded  dynasties  and  races. 

Chronology  is  at  fault  in  the  years  that  iihmediately  succeed  the 
deluge,  and  there  can  be  httle  doubt  that  we  have  erred  in  our 
commonly-received  chronological  tables  in  the  space  of  time  which 
followed  that  event  and  preceded  the  descent  of  Jacob  into  Egypt. 

Herodotus  relates,  that  the  name  of  the  first  king  of  Egypt  was 
Menes,  and  Diodorus  also  states,  that  he  succeeded  the  gods  and 
heroes  who  had  previously  reigned.  Herodotus  adds,  that  in  his 
reign  the  whole  of  Egypt,  except  the  province  of  Thebes,  was  a 
marsh,  or  in  other  words,  that  what  we  call  the  Delta,  was  then  in 
process  of  formation.  This  places  the  time  of  that  monarch  at  a 
period  long  anterior  to  Abraham.  Of  course  the  authority  of  He- 
rodotus was  but  the  tradition  of  Egypt,  when  he  was  there,  about 
B.c.  450,  but  that  was  a time  when  the  monumental  records  were 
read  with  ease  by  all  the  learned  men  of  Egypt,  and  the  story  of 
Menes  is  therefore  entitled  to  more  attention  than  the  vague  tra- 
ditions of  the  heroes  and  the  gods  who  preceded  liim. 

It  has  been  by  some  supposed,  that  Menes  was  identical  with 
Misraim,  the  grandson  of  Hoah  and  the  son  of  Ham,  to  whom 
Egypt  fell  as  an  inheritance,  and  whence  it  derived  a name  well 
known  in  Scripture,  and  preserved  to  this  day  in  the  Arabic  name 
of  Cairo,  which  is  Musr.  Others  have  supposed,  that  Menes, 
which  signifies  eternal^  was  a figurative  name,  designed  originally 
to  convey  the  idea  that  the  race  was  without  beginning,  or  possi- 
bly that  it  had  its  beginning  from  The  Eternal. 

Of  the  time  between  Misraim  and  the  arrival  of  Abraham  in 
Egypt,  we  are  almost  destitute  of  any  cotemporary  record,  either 
in  Scripture  or  on  stone. 

Colonel  Howard  Yyse,  an  energetic  Englishman,  who,  by  liis 


HISTORY. 


4l3 

excavations  in  1847,  discovered  more  of  value  to  history  in  the 
pyramids  of  Egypt  than  had  been  found  for  two  thousand  years 
before,  in  forcing  his  way  through  the  heart  of  the  great  pyramid 
above  the  king’s  chamber,  and  opening  room  after  room,  which 
had  been  left  above  that  chamber  to  relieve  it  of  the  superincum- 
bent weight  that  would  otherwise  have  rested  on  its  top,  found 
the  cartouche  of  Suphis  or  Cheops  scrawled  on  the  rocks,  which  no 
eye  but  his  had  seen  since  the  day  they  were  laid  there. 

This  scrawl  of  an  idle  workman,  with  red  chalk  or 
earth,  on  a stone  that  he  sat  on  while  he  ate  his  onion 
and  bread  at  noon,  is  a solitary  memorial  of  the  grand- 
eur of  Cheops,  the  buUder  of  the  pyramid. 

In  Dr.  Abbott’s  collection  there  is  a heavy  golden 
signet  ring,  found  in  a tomb  near  the  pyramid,  Avhich 
bears  the  same  cartouche,  and  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  relics 
of  antiquity  extant,  as  possibly  having  been  worn  on  the  royal 
finger  of.the  same  Cheops. 

These,  and  one  or  two  opened  tombs  near  the  pyramid,  are 
the  only  monumental  confirmations  of  ancient  liistory  wich  give 
the  name  of  Cheops  as  the  founder  of  the  great  pyramid  of 
Ghizeh. 

^ Colonel  Yyse  opened  also  the  third  pyramid.  Herodotus  as- 
cribes it  to  Mycerinus.  Colonel  Vyse  found  in  it  a broken  mummy 
case  and  some  bones  of  a mummy.  Fortunately  the  upper  board 
of  the  case  was  preserved,  and  on  it  in  plain  characters — hiero- 
glyphic, of  course — was  the  name  of  tliis  monarch,  in  connection 
with  the  usual  title  given  to  the  Egyptian  monarch  on  the  monu- 
ments. The  coffin-board  and  the  bones  of  this  monarch  lie  now 
on  a shelf  in  the  British  Museum. 

The  second  pyramid  of  Ghizeh,  next  in  size  to  that  of  Cheops, 
and  somewhat  higher  in  fact,  from  standing  on  higher  ground, 
was  built  by  a monarch  variously  styled  in  ancient  history  Cephren, 
Chemmes,  Sensaophis,  and  Cephrenes.  He  • was  a brother  of 
Cheops.  Mycerinus  was  the  son  of  Cheops.  In  the  tombs  imme- 
diately around  the  three  chief  pyramids  of  Ghizeh  the  name  of 
Cheops  and  the  names  of  other  unknown-  kings  (as  yet  unde- 
ciphered or  untranslated)  have  been  discovered ; wliile  that  of  My- 
cerinus is  found  in  one  of  the  smaller  pyramids  not  far  distant.  The 


474 


HISTORY. 


Other  pyramids  scattered  along  the  west  bank  of  the  Nile  are  either 
unmarked,  or,  if  containing  names,  are  of  unknown  date. 

These,  then,  are  the  only  monuments  of  the  period  before  Abra- 
ham that  we  are  possessed  of,  and  from  these  slender  materials  we 
are  left  to  construct  a history  of  the  nation  for  an  indefinite  space 
of  time. 

Manetho  and  other  ancient  historians  of  Egypt  afford  us  no  aid, 
since  they  give  no  authority  for  their  stories,  and  are  too  often 
contradicted  by  the  existing  monuments. 

Of  the  date,  period,  and  departure  from  Egypt  of  the  dynasty 
called  the  Shepherd  Kings,  we  have  no  other  information  than  this, 
that  if  such  a dynasty  did  exist,  it  was  in  the  period  we  are  now 
writing  of. 

During  the  period  of  from  four  to  eight  hundred  years,  Egypt- 
ian power  and  wealth  attained  an  unexampled  height.  No  nation 
in  the  world  so  advanced  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  nor  is  there  any 
known  rehc  of  that  period,  or  of  any  period  approaching  it,  which 
compares  with  the  monuments  in  the  land  of  Menes.  Whatever, 
therefore,  may  be  asserted  of  Phoenician  or  other  origin  to  Egypt- 
ian arts  and  learning,  it  is  very  evident  that  at  a point  of  time  two 
thousand  years  before  Christ  no  nation  in  the  world  rivaled  the 
sons  of  Misraim. 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  at  this  time  the  rehgion  or 
general  condition  of  the  people  was  materially  other  than  in  the 
days  of  Herodotus,  who  describes  them  so  minutely.  We  know 
that  they  already  built  temples  and  worshiped  the  bull  Apis,  and 
numerous  other  gods.  But  who  were  the  kings  of  Egypt,  save 
only  those  three  whose  names  we  have  mentioned,  is  a secret  in 
the  unrolled  scrolls  of  histoiy. 

Manetho  says  that  after  Menes  sixteen  kings  reigned  at  This  or 
Abydos,  and  when  This  fell  Thebes  arose  and  seventeen  kings 
reigned  there. 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  which  part  of  Egypt  was  first  populously 
settled.  Herodotus’s  account  of  the  marshy  condition  of  the  Delta 
is  not  without  foundation  in  reason,  for  we  find  the  obelisk  of 
Heliopolis  now  deeply  imbedded  in  the  ground  which  has  accu- 
mulated around  it  by  the  annual  deposits  of  the  Nile,  and  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  the  remoter  and  dryer  regions  of  Thebes  would  be 


HISTORY. 


475 


selected  as  the  capital  of  the  country  and  the  residence  of  the 
kings. 

It  is  probable  that  there  were  at  least  three  difierent  govern- 
ments in  Egypt  at  the  same  time.  One  at  Memphis  or  Heliopolis, 
one  at  Thebes,  and  a third  at  Elephantine,  the  first  cataract.  There 
were  also  minor  communities,  which  were  independent,  having 
their  own  sovereigns,  as  at  Heracleopolis. 

Thus  much  of  the  dark  ages  before  Abraham. 

The  next  endeavor  of  history  is  to  fix  liis  date.  But  this  can 
be  done  only  by  working  back  from  a known  point.  The  monu- 
ments of  Egypt  are  carved  with  kings’  names,  and  we  are  able  to 
form  a tolerably  correct  fist  from  the  time  of  Osirtasen  I.  to  the 
days  of  the  Caesars.  But  to  find  the  date  of  Osirtasen  we  must 
take  that  of  Shishak,  which  is  already  fixed,  and  go  backward.  _ 
Egyptian  scholars  differ  vastly  on  this  cluronology,  nor  is  it  possible 
to  affirm  who  is  correct.  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson,  whose  reputa- 
tion is  certainly  not  inferior  to  any,  while  liis  critical  skill  and  im- 
partial mind  render  him  a cooler  examiner  and  more  trustworthy 
guide  than  Lepsius,  fixes  Osirtasen  I.  at  b.c.  1740,  the  arrival  of 
Abraham  in  Egypt  being  at  1920,  while  Dr.  Sharpe  and  others 
suppose  that  this  obelisk  of  Heliopolis  erected  by  Osirtasen  may 
have  been  seen  by  the  Father  of  the  Faithful. 

This  monarch  erected  the  oldest  portion  of  the  temple  of  Kar- 
nak  at  Thebes,  and  from  the  solitary  obehsk  which  remains  at 
Hehopohs  it  appears  probable  that  he  adorned  and  beautified  that 
city,  winch  Abraham,  and  Jacob,  and  Joseph  visited.  Some  of 
the  tombs  at  Beni  Hassan  are  certainly  as  old  as  his  time.  From 
this  reign  we  date  the  oldest  existing  monuments  which  are  sculp- 
tured, both  in  the  upper  and  lower  country,  and  it  is  evident  that 
he  included  all  of  Egypt  in  his  dominions.  It  is  possible  that  he 
was  the  first  monarch  who  united  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  which 
continued  at  all  times  afterward  to  be  spoken  of  as  two  countries. 
One  of  the  common  titles  of  a Pharaoh  was,  “ Lord  of  the  Upper 
and  Lower  Country.” 

There  are  various  tablets  in  Egypt  wliich  record  the  names  of 
successive  monarchs.  On  that  at  Abydos,  we  find  that  Osirtasen 
I.  was  succeeded  by  Amunmeit-Thor  II.  (the  first  of  that  name 
probably  preceded  Osirtasen),  and  by  Osirtasen  II.  and  Osirtasen 


476 


n I S T O R Y. 


III.  "VVilldnson  supposes  one  of  these  four  monarchs,  probably 
Osirtasen  I.,  to  be  the  king  whom  Jacob  saw,  and  who  elevated 
Joseph.  The  present  prevailing  opinion  among  scholars  is,  that  the 
Exodus  took  place  in  the  reign  of  Thothmes  III.,  an  intermediate 
king,  Amosis,  being  the  king  “ who  knew  not  Joseph.” 

It  is  not  the  design  of  this  sketch  to  discuss  these  chronological 
questions.  Already  before  the  Israehtes  arrived  in  Egypt  the  arts 
and  sciences  had  progressed  to  a great  extent,  as  we  have  abund- 
ant evidence  in  the  paintings  and  sculptures  of  the  early  tombs. 
Colonel  Vyse  found  an  iron  instrument  in  the  pyramid  of  Cheops. 
The  granite  obehsk  of  Osirtasen  was  beautifully  cut.  The  polygo- 
nal columns  which  remain,  of  his  portions  of  Karnak,  are  elegant 
in  design,  and  evidently  suggested  the  Grecian  Doric.  The  civih- 
zation  of  famihes  must  have  been  equal  to  the  best  days  of  Komo. 
Articles  of  luxury,  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  fine  colors  and  em- 
broideries, all  abounded,  and  it  appears  evident  that  the  splendor 
of  fife  among  the  wealthy  in  Egypt,  at  the  time  of  the  captivity, 
was  never  surpassed,  even  in  the  days  of  Cleopatra.  The  govern- 
ment was  priestly.  The  king  was  the  high  priest. 

Among  the  kings  who  reigned  during  the  century  immediately 
succeeding  the  bondage,  Amunoph  III.  is  among  the  most  distin- 
guished. He  built  the  great  temple  at  Luxor,  and  erected  on  the 
plain  of  Thebes  the  two  colossal  statues,  one  of  which  became 
vocal  in  tradition  as  Memnon.  About  1400  b.c.,  Remeses  the  Great 
ascended  the  throne.  He  was  the  great  monarch  of  Egypt,  the 
Sesostris  of  ancient  history.  The  reader  of  this  volume  has  al- 
ready observed  the  number  and  splendor  of  his  works  in  the  Hile 
vaUey.  He  carried  the  sword  into  other  countries.  His  temples 
at  Thebes  and  elsewhere  are  covered  with  the  accounts  of  his  vic- 
tories, the  number  of  his  captives,  and  the  valuation  of  his  con- 
' quests,  while  his  name  is  recorded  in  distant  countries  through 
which  he  marched  as  a victor. 

The  period  of  Remeses  Sesostris  has  well  been  styled  the  Au- 
gustan era  of  Egypt.  The  Nile  valley  was  a continuous  row  of 
prosperous  cities,  magnificent  temples,  and  royal  palaces.  The 
arms  of  the  country  were  every  where  triumphant ; the  arts  were 
cultivated  and  adorned  the  cities,  houses,  and  most  of  all  the 
tombs ; nor  is  there  at  this  remote  age  an  article  of  household 


HISTORY. 


477 


luxury,  a fauteuil  or  a cooking  utensil,  a harp  or  a set  of  toys,  that 
does  not  seem  to  have  its  counterpart  in  the  splendid  tomb  of  this 
monarch,  now  lying  open  at  Thebes. 

After  him  Egyptian  history  continues  through  a long  line  of 
kings,  among  whom  are  Shishak,  whose  cartouche  I have  spoken 
of  at  Kamak,  and  So,  Psammatichus,  and  Neco,  who  are  mentioned 
in  the  sacred  writings. 

"We  now  approach  a period  of  more  definite  dates. 

The  Greeks,  who  had  long  been  in  the  habit  of  trading  with  the 
Egyptians,  had  established  colonies  in  the  Delta,  where  Naucratis, 
their  chief  city,  grew  to  be  an  important  colony. 

Thales  of  Miletus  visited  Egypt  about  n.c.  548,  and  Solon 
came  to  Naucratis  with  olive  oO,  to  exchange  it  for  Egyptian  corn. 
Plato  gives  a full  account  of  what  the  great  lawgiver  learned  in 
the  old  country,  whose  priests  professed  to  possess  records  of  nine 
thousand  years.  Pythagoras,  too,  about  this  time  raeided  in 
Egypt  for  twenty  years,  and  until  the  Persian  invasion. 

The  reign  of  Amasis  was  to  Egyptian  history  what  the  reign  of 
the  fourth  George  was  to  England,  a period  of  high  art,  pohshed 
hterature,  learning,  luxury,  and  power — when  all  the  world  flocked 
to  her  temples  and  palaces  to  lefarn  arts  and  arms,  philosophy,  the- 
olog}^,  and  all  that  appertains  to  life,  earthly  or  eternal. 

It  was  about  529  b.c.  that  Cyrus  died,  and  in  the  fourth  year 
of  his  son  Cambyses,  the  Persians  invaded  the  Nile  valley. 
Amasis  was  dead,  liis  son  succeeding  him.  Crossing  the  desert 
by  way  of  Petra,  Cambyses  entered  the  Delta,  and  routed  Psam- 
matichus, in  a pitched  battle,  under  the  walls  of  Pelusium.  Thence 
he  followed  up  his  victory  to  Memphis,  and  the  throne  fell  into  his 
power.  He  made  the  conquered  monarch’s  daughter  and  the 
children  of  the  nobility  of  Egypt  carry  water  for  him,  and  wear 
*the  dress  of  slaves,  to  show  their  complete  subjugation,  while  he 
adjudged  two  thousand  of  the  young  men  to  death. 

This  was  the  end  of  the  glory  of  ancient  Egypt.  The  Persians 
passed  up  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Nile,  sweeping  away  the 
splendid  structures  whose  age  even  then  was  fabulous,  and  whose 
duration  was  intended  to  be  eternal.  Osymandyas  fell  from  his 
throne  before  the  invader,  and  his  granite  fragments  were  scattered 
on  the  sands  of  the  Theban  plain.  Memnon,  that  had  greeted  the 


478 


HISTORY. 


morning  suns  for  a thousand  years,  ^yas  hurled  to  the  ground.  The 
obelisks  of  Karnak,  that  pointed  their  taper  fingers  heavenward, 
were  scattered ; one  only  standing,  calm  and  serene  as  the  face 
of  an  old  friend  among  the  chaotic  fragments  of  a delirious  dream. 

The  successor  of  Cambyses,  Darius  Hystaspes,  permitted  the 
Egyptians  to  be  ruled  by  Egyptians,  and  Memnon  was  repaired, 
and  the  temples  were  then  in  some  measure  restored.  But  the 
age  of  giants  was  passed,  and  there  were  neither  men  nor  souls  to 
rebuild  Karnak,  or  replace  the  granite  statue  of  Sesostris  at  the 
Remeseion.  It  was  during  the  Persian  dynasty,  about  460  b.c., 
that  Herodotus  visited  Egypt,  and  wrote  his  curious  notes  on  the 
history,  manners,  and  customs,  religion,  and  laws  of  the  people, 
from  which  we  derive  much  of  our  information  about  them. 

Alexander  the  Great  conquered  Egypt,  and  Ptolemy  was  made 
governor,  b.c.  322,  in  the  name  of  Philip  and  Alexander. 

The  i^istory  of  the  division  of  the  kingdoms  among  the  follow- 
ers of  Alexander  on  his  death,  is  already  too  well  known  to  need 
repetition.  The  Ptolemaic  dynasty  continued  until  the  Roman 
power  in  the  East.  During  the  period  of  this  dynasty  arts  flour- 
ished, and  many  splendid  temples  were  erected  in  the  upper 
country,  which  are  distinguished -for  their  florid  architecture  and 
elaborate  adornments.  It  is  remarkable,  that  of  the  architectural 
antiquities  of  Egypt  now  remaining,  nine  tenths  are  Ptolemaic  or 
of  the  days  of  Sesostris. 

Alexandria  sprang  into  power  in  tliose  days.  It  had  been  an 
insignificant  Egyptian  city,  but  became  for  a time  the  capital  of 
the  East,  and  when  Cleopatra  won  Antony  to  her  arms  it  was  the 
centre  of  all  the  luxurious  refinements  of  the  world. 

The  scattered  J ews  had  settled  in  large  numbers  in  Egypt,  and 
especially  in  and  near  Alexandria.  It  w'as  here  that  the  tradition 
of  the  church  brings  the  Apostle  Mark  about  the  years  a.d.  50-65". 
He  remained  in  Alexandria  twelve  years,  preaching  boldly  with 
great  success,  and  founding  a church,  of  which  Annianus  was  the 
first  bishop.  Eusebius  gives  a complete  list  of  his  successors,  and 
there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the  regularity  of  the  succession  from 
that  time  to  tliis. 

The  Christians  of  Egypt  shared  the  variable  joys  and  trials  of 
Christians  all  over  the  world.  They  were  persecuted  Avith  sword 


RELIGION. 


479 


and  flame,  they  were  offered  up  as  sacrifices  to  heathen  gods,  and 
burned  for  torches  in  the  public  highways.  Thousands  of  souls 
went  to  God  in  triumphal  chariots  from  martyrdom  on  the  Nile 
plain,  and  among  the  hosts  in  white  that  surround  and  sit  on  the 
thrones  of  heaven,  there  will  be  none  with  brighter  crowns  than 
some  of  those  who  came  from  this  land  of  all  manner  of  idolatries. 


II. 

RELIGION. 

The  brief  sketch  of  the  ancient  liistory  of  Egypt  will  suffice  to 
convey  some  idea  of  the  various  influences  which  had  importance 
from . time  to  time  in  the  formation  of  Egyptian  mythology  and 
theology. 

At  what  period  of  the  world  men  began  to  worship  false  gods 
we  can  not  at  present  know.  The  roar  of  the  deluge  had  not 
ceased  in  the  ears  of  the  sons  of  Noah  when  they  had  forgotten 
the  God  of  the  storm.  A few  centuries  had  passed,  and  among 
the  oak-trees  of  Mamre  there  was  an  altar  to  the  living  God,  but 
no  other  smoke  of  sacrifice — so  far  as  we  now  know — went  up  to 
him  from  all  the  earth  that  he  had  created. 

The  origin  of  idolatry  was  not  every  where  the  same.  In  As- 
syria it  was  doubtless  in  hero  worship,  and  the  canonizing  of  the 
great  dead.  But  in  Egypt  this  was  not  done.  Herodotus  is  correct 
in  his  statement  that  they  gave  no  divine  honor  to  heroes.  No 
trace  of  such  worship  exists  in  their  theology. 

Doubtless  the  rehgion  of  Egypt  became  idolatrous  from  an  at- 
tempt to  define  the  several  attributes  of  the  Deity.  This  is  a very 
natural  and  easy  method  of  falling  into,  precisely  what  the  Egypt- 
ians did  fall  into,  pantheism.  For  the  religion  of  the  Egyptians 
was  pure  pantheism  until  it  became  debased  in  the  later  cen- 
turies. 

They,  like  all  children  of  Noah,  worshiped  the  God  of  the 
deluge.  But  in  process  of  time  his  character,  which  was  originally 


480 


RELIGION. 


understood  as  a Unity,  became  unintelligible  to  them.  Then 
they  deified  his  attributes.  The  living  God,  the  eternal,  unchange- 
able, the  Father  of  fights,  the  Creator,  the  Preserver,  each  was  a 
diSerent  deity. 

But  that  they  at  first  united  all  these  in  one  God,  and  had  some 
notion  of  them  as  being  various  manifestations  of  the  same  Deity, 
appears  to  me  sufficiently  evident. 

There  was  in  all  that  they  did  an  idea  forever  prominent  of  the 
one  mighty  Lord.  To  him  the  converging  fines  of  the  obelisk 
pointed.  To  him  the  open  courts  of  all  the  temples  permitted  tlie 
voices  of  worshipers  to  ascend.  To  him  they  built  their  most 
magnificent  temples,  erected  their  most  expensive  shrines.  Xor 
did  the  presence  in  the  temples  of  other  and  lesser  deities  at  any 
time  fully  remove  the  vague  idea  that  they  were  in  some  sense 
emanations  from  the  Supreme  One. 

Such,  then,  was  the  origin  of  Pthah,  Amun,  Khem  !Maut,  and 
other  deities,  representing  the  Creator,  the  Powerful,  the  Father, 
the  Mother,  and  other  great  attributes  of  God.  At  what  period 
in  Egyptian  history  they  were  introduced  to  the  Pantheon  it  is 
impossible  to  say,  but  it  must  have  been  in  that  indefinite  period 
before  the  date  of  Osirtasen  I.,  since  at  the  time  of  that  monarch 
portions  of  the  temple  of  Kamak  were  built  and  dedicated  to  these 
deities. 

But  it  is  necessary  to  account  for  far  more  than  this  simple  pan- 
theism if  we  would  attempt  to  explain  Egyptian  theology. 

The  most  profound  mystery  in  the  subject  hangs  around  the 
chief  object  of  Egyptian  fear  and  adoration,  the  God  Osiris. 

But  that  his  worship  antedates  even  the  days  of  Abraham,  we 
should  be  disposed  to  believe  that  there  was  some  dim  concep- 
tion of  the  theory  of  the  Messiah,  in  his  character,  which  is  the 
grandest  fact  of  the  great  system  of  Egyptian  worship. 

He  was  a God  who  long  before  the  days  of  Menes  reigned  in 
Egypt.  He  had  come  to  the  earth  as  the  “teacher  of  good  and  of 
truth such  is  his  title.  He  was  put  to  death  by  his  son  Typhon, 
the  Satan  of  Egyptian  mythology,  and  then  being  dead  was  made 
the  judge  of  all  the  dead,  who  in  turn  must  appear  before  him. 

In  regard  to  the  time,  the  manner,  and  the  causes  of  all  this, 
doctors  differed  as  theological  doctors  now'  differ.  Some  held  to 


RELIGION. 


481 


his  burial  and  resurrection,  others  that  he  was  cut  into  pieces  and 
the  pieces  scattered  through  Egypt,  and  that  Isis  went  on  a 
mournful  search  after  them  and  gathered  them  together.  All 
agreed  that  the  island  of  Philse  had  a peculiar  sanctity  as  his  burial- 
place.  To  all  he  was  the  God  of  the  judgment,  and  whatever  par- 
ticular deity  was  specially  honored  in  one  or  another  city,  Osiris 
was  every  where  respected  as  the  final  judge. 

From  worshiping  the  manifestations  of  the  Deity  in  his  great 
attributes,  it  was  an  easy  transition  to  worshiping  his  great  works, 
in  which  there  seemed  to  be  an  active  principle  of  life.  The  sun 
and  moon  were  to  all  nations  first  in  the  catalogue,  and  the  earth 
perhaps  next.  The  sun  was  peculiarly  near  in  its  relations  to 
divinity  from  its  life-giving  power.  It  seemed  the  source  of  ani- 
mal and  vegetable  life,  and  thus  to  be  almost  an  essential  part  of 
the  creating  power  of  the  Deity.  Nature,  acting  with  the  influ- 
ence of  the  sun,  brought  forth  plants  and  various  forms  of  life.  She 
was  of  course  deified. 

Later  in  succession,  a species  of  transcendentalism  seems  to  have 
entered  into  the  rehgious  philosophy  of  Egypt,  and  it  is  not  un- 
common to  find  on  the  monuments  representations  of  kings,  the 
external  and  visible  man,  offering  votive  presents  to  Iris  own  inner 
self  stajiding  before  him  as  a god. 

Few  animals  were  actually  deified.  There  has  not  been  sufficient 
distinction  made  in  this  respect  between  deification  and  a making 
sacred,  which  perhaps  might  be  called  canonizing. 

The  crocodile  was  a sacred  animal.  The  origin  of  his  canoniza- 
tion was  probably  in  villages  situated  back  from  the  Nile  on  broad 
parts  of  the  valley,  the  fertility  of  whose  lands  depended  on  keep- 
ing open  the  canals  of  the  Nile.  Building  a temple  with  a sacred 
pond  and  therein  preserving,  feeding,  and  taking  care  of  these  an- 
imals, the  people  were  instructed  that  the  fertility  of  their  lands 
depended  on  attending  to  the  wants  of  the  crocodile,  chief  among 
which  was  the  necessity  of  free  access  to  the  Nile.  Therefore  the 
people  kept  the  canals  open.  A similar  reason  may  be  given  for 
the  respect  paid  to  the  Ibis,  while  the  attention  which  was  given 
to  cats  and  other  animals,  living  or  dead,  originated  in  the  idea  that 
each  of  these  animals  was  in  some  respect  typical  of  tlie  attribute 
worshiped  as  one  or  another  deity. 

21 


482 


HISTORY. 


It  is  my  object  in  this  brief  article  only  to  sketch  the  rise  and 
progress  of  Egyptian  theology  in  its  earlier  existence.  It  afterward 
became  a hideous  mass  of  idolatry,  without  form  or  order — a mad- 
ness without  method. 

Temples  to  gods  were  erected  at  a very  early  period.  The  older 
parts  of  Karnak  antedate  the  arrival  of  Abraham  in  Egypt.  One 
almost  invariable  plan  was  adopted  in  building  these  temples  dur- 
ing two  thousand  years.  Two  great  towers  stood  on  the  sides  of 
the  grand  gateway  which  opened  into  a court,  surrounded  by  a 
colonnade,  and  tliis  opened  into  a cliamber  which  was  the  holy 
of  holies,  ^ilore  or  less  chambers  surrounded  this,  for  priestly  uses. 
Images  of  gods  and  goddesses  were  common.  At  Abou  Simbal, 
and  at  Gerf  Hossayn,  the  stone  gods  sit  even  to  this  day  behind 
their  altars,  waiting  the  return  of  worshipers. 

That  the  Egyptians  believed  in  the  immortality  of  soul  and  body, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  This  led  to  the  custom  of  mummying  the 
dead,  and  I presume  that  this  led  to  the  excavation  of  costly  sep- 
ulchres. It  appears  evident  that  they  expected  to  return  to  their 
original  bodies  at  some  future  time,  and  desired  to  find  them  not 
only  perfect,  but  in  such  habitations  as  they  might  not  be  ashamed 
of.  I believe  I have  already  remarked,  that  it  seems  to  me  prob- 
able that  they  built  their  temples  with  reference  to  this  return,  as 
if  they  intended  them  to  outlast  the  changes  of  time,  and  be  ready 
to  receive  them  in  the  second  life.  That  they  expected  to  resume 
these  bodies,  and  inhabit  the  Nile  valley,  can  not,  I think,  be  ques- 
tioned. 

The  state  of  the  dead  between  this  life  and  their  return,  was  a 
subject  of  constant  thought  and  study  among  Egyptian  philosophers 
and  priests.  The  tombs  abound  in  representations  of  that  state. 
The  dead  were  always  led  to  Osiris  for  judgment,  and  by  him  con- 
signed to  one  or  another  fate  as  their  balance  of  evil  against  good 
was  smaller  or  greater.  For  I am  not  aware  than  any  tomb  has 
been  found  among  the  hundreds  containing  this  judgment  scene 
where  the  evil  did  not  outweigh  the  good.  If  they  did  not  beheve 
in  original  sin,  they  undoubtedly  believed  in  the  total  depravity  of 
the  human  race,  and  while  the  doctrine  of  an  atonement  was  un- 
known to  them,  they  taught  and  believed  that  sin  must  have  its 
punishment  after  death,  whether  the  sinner  were  king  or  clown. 


TVRITTE^'  LA^’GUAGE. 


483 


III. 

WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 

Whether  Moses,  educated  in  the  house  of  Pharaoh,  wrote  the 
books  of  the  Pentateuch  in  Egyptian  characters,  or  whether  he  had 
learned  another  and  more  simple  alphabet,  or  had  invented  one 
for  himself,  is  a question  that  will  forever  remain  unsettled.  ' 

Although  very  great  advances  have  been  made  within  the  pres- 
ent century  in  deciphering  the  hieroglyphics  of  Egypt,  we  are 
stni  very  much  in  the  dark  when  attempting  to  read  monumental 
inscriptions  or  records  on  papyrus.  Enough  is  known  to  establish 
the  general  character  of  the  alphabet,  but  not  enough  to  follow 
the  various  signs  through  their  different  names  and  sounds  which 
they  probably  possessed  in  different  locations  and  connections. 

The  history  of  the  discovery  of  the  method  of  reading  the 
hieroglyphic  writings  of  Egypt  is  among  the  most  important  parts 
of  the  history  of  this  century.  It  is  a striking  feature  of  the  age 
in  which  we  live,  that  the  monuments  which  have  lain  for  nearly 
two  thousand  years,  showing  their  broad  legends  to  the  sun  and 
the  eyes  of  the  learned  and  curious,  are  now  for  the  first  time 
legible  and  intelligible  to  men. 

In  tliis  brief  paper  I can  do  no  more  than  outline  tliis  history, 
but  I am  not  without  confidence  that  even  a cursory  statement 
may  prove  interesting. 

He  who  has  read  this,  or  any  other  volume  on  Egypt,  is  of 
course  well  aware  that  the  sacred  sculptures  {Hiero-glyphs)  are 
found  on  almost  every  ruin  of  old  times  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile. 
Temples  are  covered  without  and  witliin  with  these  figures  and 
forms.  Columns,  from  pedestal  to  capital,  are  blazoned  with  them. 
Even  in  the  streets  of  Cairo  your  donkey  treads  on  carved  stones, 
bearing  the  names  of  old  kings.  Walls  of  tombs  are  minutely 
adorned  with  stories  of  the  dead,  and  prophecies  of  their  future 
fate.  Tablets  here  and  there  in  palace  temples  record  lives  of 
kings  and  queens.  All  these  are  in  the  hieroglyphic  character. 

Besides  these  we  have  articles  discovered  in  tombs,  household 
utensils,  furniture  and  toys,  which  are  marked  with  these  or  an- 


484 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


otlier  style  of  character.  And  we  have  also  immense  quantities 
of  papyrus,  found  chiefly  in  tombs,  which  contain  histories,  poems, 
essays,  and  other  writings,  in  the  Hieroglyphic  and  two  otlier 
styles  of  character,  which  we  call  the  Hieratic,  or  priestly,  and  the 
Demotic,  or  popular.  The  Hieratic  bore  to  the  hieroglyphic  much 
the  same  relation  that  our  written  characters  in  common  hand- 
writing bear  to  an  elegant  printed  page.  It  was  the  same  charac- 
ter, but  shaped  for  common,  rapid,  epistolary  use. 

The  Demotic,  or  people’s  style,  was  probably  a corruption  of  the 
hieratic.  It  is  found  on  papyrus  as  well  as  on  household  articles. 

Illustrations  of  these  three  styles  of  writing  will  better  enable 
the  reader  to  appreciate  their  distinction  than  any  amount  of  de- 
scription. 

lia 

Ilieroglypliic. 

Hieratic. 

Demotic. 

In  one  or  the  other  of  these  characters  the  learning  of  Egypt 
was  preserved  from  generation  to  generation,  and  age  to  age.  Im- 
mense treasures  of  that  learning  have  been  forever  lost. 

The  literature  of  Egypt  was  doubtless  very  extensive,  vastly 
more  so  than  we  are  accustomed  to  beheve.  In  the  great  Alex- 
andrian library,  there  must  have  been  many  thousand  volumes  of 
Egyptian  history,  law,  metaphysics,  theology,  and  general  liter- 
ature. 

The  forty-two  books  of  Hermes,  known  to  the  Greeks,  were 
Iiierographic.  We  are  fortunate  in  possessing  considerable  por- 
tions of  them  in  the  papyri  most  commonly  found  in  the  tombs, 
and  especially  in  the  papyrus  of  the  Turin  Museum,  which  con- 


AY  KITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


485 


tains  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  chapters.  This,  usually  called 
‘‘The  Eitual  of  the  Dead,”  is  often  found  in  whole  or  in  part  as 
the  companion  of  a mummy.  In  later  days  the  form  was  much 
shortened.  It  consists  of  prayers  to  be  recited  by  priests  at  the 
funeral  services,  formulie  which  the  deceased  must  be  acquainted 
with,  for  his  guidance  in  the  unseen  world — prayers  to  the  gods 
for  the  dead — services  and  orders,  by  means  of  which  the  deceased 
will  oppose  evil  spirits  and  fiends  of  aU  kinds — will  recover  his 
head,  his  heart,  and  his  body — will  pass  through  the  mystical  re- 
gions of  hereafter — and,  in  general,  instructions  of  the  dead  for  thek 
guidance  in  the  future  world. 

Besides  these,  however,  the  books  of  Hermes  consisted  of  works 
on  astronomy,  music,  law,  theology,  and  medicine. 

We  learn  from  ancient  writers  that  there  were  also  works  of 
King  Cheops,  builder  of  the  first  pyramid,  on  theology ; of  Menes, 
who  was  a physician,  and  of  Necho,  an  astrologer,  as  well  as 
numerous  books  of  priests  and  learned  men. 

Diodorus  and  Herodotus  allude  to  works  on  law,  medicine,  and 
astronomy.  The  laws  of  the  country  were  known  in  eight  vol- 
umes. 

We  have  abundant  evidence  that  liieroglyphic  writing  was  used 
for  ordinary  literary  purposes.  Even  songs  were  written  in  it. 
An  example,  familiar  to  Egyptian  scholars,  is  taken  from  a tomb  at 
Eileithyas,  where  it  appears  written  over  oxen  treading  out  grain. 
( Vide  ‘postj  page  490.) 

The  language  of  ancient  Egypt  was  a derivative  from  the  old 
stock,  branching  at  Babel.  This  was  preserved  with  much  purity 
in  the  priestly  writings  and  legends,  but  corrupted  by  the  people 
in  its  common  use,  receiving  words  and  ideas  from  every  nation 
conquered  by,  or  conquering  the  Egyptian,  even  to  Greek  and  Ro- 
man times.  The  Coptic  of  the  centuries  after  Christ  bore  a very 
distant  resemblance  to  its  original  Semitic  root,  and  was  finally 
lost,  except  only  in  the  formulas  and  services  of  the  Coptic  church, 
where  it  is  still  used,  neither  clerk  or  priest  pretending  in  four  cases 
out  of  five  to  understand  a word  that  he  reads.  I questioned  them 
in  many  Coptic  churches,  and  found  their  ignorance  of  the  language 
frequently  and  usually  total. 

The  problem,  therefore,  to  be  solved,  was  this : Given  an  un- 


486 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


known  language,  written  in  an  unknown  character;  required  to 
translate  it  into  English. 

It  would  be  impossible  in  these  pages  to  recount  one  in  ten  of 
the  attempts  which  have  from  time  to  time  been  made  to  solve 
this  problem. 

As  early  as  1529,  Yaleriani  pubhshed  a folio  attempt.*  Elrcher, 
in  1653,  fathered  most  amusing  and  extravagant  notions  in  a larger 
pubhcation,t  and  was  followed  by  a host  of  authors  in  octavo  and 
foHo  for  more  than  a century,  no  one  of  all  whom  made  the  shght- 
est  progress  in  the  work.  The  waste  of  time,  paper,  and  press- 
work  on  these  essays,  was  enormous.  Perhaps  no  subject  has 
exhausted  so  many  brains  to  so  little  effect.  Zoega,J  in  1797,  sug- 
gested the  first  valuable  idea  on  the  subject,  to  wit,  that  the  liiero- 
glyphical  figures  which  we  commonly  call  a cartouche,  contained  the 
name  of  a royal  personage,  and  that  the  ordinary  characters  might 

be  alphabetical.  This 
suggestion  was  never 
acted  on,  however,  until 
the  days  of  Dr.  Young 
and  Champollion. 

In  1799,  a stone  was 
discovered  in  the  Delta, 
near  Rosetta,  of  the 
shape  of  which  the 
drawing  will  give  an 
accurate  idea.  It  bore 
an  inscription  of  great 
length,  in  three  charac- 
ters. The  first  lyas  the 
Hieroglyphic;  the  sec- 
ond, the  Demotic  or 
popular ; and  tlie  third, 
Greek.  This  is  the 
famous  Rosetta  stone 
which  proved  the  key 
to  the  hidden  Egjq)tian 
characters. 

♦ Hieroglyphioa.  Lugdun.  Batav.  1529.  t CEdipus  .<Egyptiacus.  Romse ; 1652-4. 
t De  origine  obeliscorum,  Romse ; 1797. 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


487 


In  1818,  Dr.  Young  published  an  article  on  the  subject,  and  actu- 
ally gave  the  names  of  some  royal  persons  from  the  monuments, 
with  the  phonetic  value  of  certain  of  the  letters  composing  them. 
He  did,  in  fact,  discover  the  value  of  five  characters,  but  he  went 
no  further.  Champollion  le  Jeune  had  published  bis  Egypt  under 
the  Pharaohs,  in  1814.*  He  was  an  ardent  young  Frenchman, 
and  devoted  himself  with  skill  and  spirit  to  the  solution  of  the 
problem. 

Mr.  Banks  had  discovered  at  Philm  a Greek  inscription  on  the 
base  of  a small  obelisk,  which  he  and  others  had  believed  to  be 
the  translation  of  the  hieroglyphic  inscription  above  it.  The  latter 
contained  a cartouche  answering  to  the  name  of  Cleopatra  in  the 
group. 

Champollion  took  this  cartouche  and  compared  it  with  one  on  the 
Rosetta  stone,  which  occurred  as  often  as  the  name  TITOAEMAIOS 
(PTOLEMAIOS)  occurred  in  the  Greek,  and  which  Dr.  Young 
had  identified  as  that  name. 

The  reasoning  of  Champollion  was  very  simple.  His  theory  was 
that  each  hieroglyphic  was  a letter  possessed  of  phonetic  value. 

If  true,  then  the  first  letter,  K,  in  Kleopatra,  would  not  be  found 
in  Ptolemaios.  It  was  not.  The  second  letter,  L,  should  be  fourth  in 
Ptolemaios.  He  found  it  so.  The  third 
letter,  E,  should  be  fifth  in  Ptolemaios, 
and  was  there,  as  also  the  seventh  and 
eighth.  The  fourth  letter,  0,  should 
be  third  in  Ptolemaios.  It  was  there. 

The  P was  in  its  proper  place  in 
both  names.  The  A of  Cleopatra  was 
not  in  Ptolemaios,  but  occurred  twice 
in  the  cartouche  of  Cleopatra.  The  T 
was  not  alike  in  the  two  names..  It 
was  the  first  failure  of  the  theory.  The  E,  was  not  in  Ptolemaios. 

It  was  soon  evident  to  Champollion  that  the  difficulty  in  the  T 
originated  in  the  use  of  different  signs  to  express  the  same  sound, 
and  this  was  another  great  step  in  learning  the  lesson  he  had  be- 
fore him. 

It  is  .hardly  necessary  to  explain  how  rapidly  after  this  Cham- 
* L’  Egypte  sous  les  Pharaons.  Paris,  1814. 


m 

488 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


pollion  advanced  his  system.  Taking  up  a cartouche  which  con- 
tained the  A and  L,  and  K,  which  he  already  possessed,  he  said, 
this  is  Alexander,  and  by  comparison  with  others,  verified  his  sup- 
position. Every  oval  or  cartouche  thus  furnished  new  letters  to 
his  alphabet,  and  at  length  he  was  able  to  read  sentences  outside 
of  the  royal  ovals. 

The  rapidity  with  which  Champollion  pressed  to  a result  is  as- 
tonishing. In  a brief  space  of  time  he  published  a grammar  and 
dictionary  of  hieroglyphics,  of  great  extent,  in  which  later  inves- 
tigators have  been  able  to  detect  so  few  errors,  that  there  is  no 
other  assistant  in  Egyptian  studies  yet  competent  to  supply  their 
places. 

The  result  arrived  at  was  this.  The  hieroglyphic  writing  of 
Egypt  is  in  substance  alphabetical.  The  alphabet  consists  of  a very 
large  number  of  characters,  the  total  being  even  yet  unknown. 
Each  picture  has  the  phonetic  value  of  the  first  sound  uttered  in 
pronouncing  its  name.  Thus  a reed,  Akke^  would  be  pronounced  A 
(the  two  reeds  represent  the  diphthong  aio,  or  ai,  in  Ptolemaios,  of 
which  the  sound  may  be  not  unlike  a double  aa),  a lion,  Za6w,  would 
be  L,  a hand.  Tut,  would  be  T ; or  to  take  an  English  illustration, 
a picture  of  a lion  would  be  L,  of  a hand  H,  of  a reed  R. 

I can  not  leave  Champollion’s  name  without  recalling  to  the 
reader’s  mind  that  remarkable  occurrence  in  his  visit  to  Egypt, 
which  I have  before  described,*  which  at  once  stamped  the  truth 
of  his  system  and  dedicated  it  to  the  uses  of  Christian  theology. 

On  his  arrival  at  Karnak  his  eye  was  attracted  by  that  remark- 
able group  of  captives  before  the  monarch  Shishak,  and  ran  over 

n 

II 

K Kah 

the  liieroglyphs  with  astonishing  result.  In  one  of  the  compart- 
ments he  found  these  characters,  and  read  them  aloud  to  his  sur- 
* Page  392. 


489 


WRITTEN  LANG'UAGE. 

prised  attendants  and  the  savans  who  had  been  at  work  on  them 
before  his  arrival,  Judah  Melk,  the  King  of  the  Jews. 

This  example  may  suffice  by  way  of  illustrating  some  further 
explanatory  remarks. 

The  last  character  is  indicated  as  Kah.  The  word  is  translated 
country.  The  figure  itself  represents  rolling  land.  Its  value  is  not 
phonetic. 

This  is  one  of  a class  of  characters  forming  an  important  feature 
in  the  hieroglyphic  system,  commonly  called  determinatives.  In  this 
instance  it  indicates  that  the  previous  words  refer  to  a country. 

A name  with  a picture  of  a god  after  it,  would  be  understood 
as  the  name  of  a god.  If  a man  follows  it,  it  would  be  the  name 
of  a man.  In  this  instance  there  are  two  determinatives.  The 
entire  name  (see  cut  on  page  386)  is  enclosed  in  a figure  repre- 
senting a fortified  place,  and  the  translation  of  the  whole  idea  is, 
“The  fortified  country  of  the  King  of  the  Jews.” 

Another  class  of  determinatives  was  soon  discovered,  consisting 
of  pictures  introduced  to  explain  the  precise  sound  of  a syllable  or 
value  of  a letter — as  if  in  English  after  the  letter  A in  the  word 
STAND,  a picture  of  a man  were  placed  to  indicate  that  the  letter 
was  to  be  pronounced  as  in  pronouncing  man. 

Abbreviations  were  found  to  be  common.  The  head  of  an 
animal  was  enough  for  the  idea  of  the  whole  animal ; a dot,  with 
a ring  round  it,  was  the  representation  of  an  eye. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  hieroglyphs  were  always  pho- 
netic. On  the  contrary  they  were  sometimes  symbohcal,  even 
when  occurring  in  alphabetical  sentences ; and  oftentimes  whole 
inscriptions,  and  extended  legends  were  in  symbohc  characters. 
Thus  certain  characters  acquired  symbolical  value.  A jackal  was 
the  emblem  of  knowledge — a flail,  of  power — a feather,  of  truth  ; 
and  these  and  other  characters  which  possessed  phonetic  value 
also  would  be  selected  in  writing  names  and  words,  on  account  of 
their  symbohc  value  agreeing  with  the  idea  of  the  word  written. 
The  fact  that  the  same  hieroglyph  possesses  at  one  time  phonetic 
and  at  another  time  symbohc  value,  is,  as  must  be  evident  to  the 
reader,  one  of  the  great  difficulties  in  the  way  of  reading  the  Egyp- 
tian records,  especiahy  as  this  double  use  may  occur  in  the  same 
sentence  or  inscription. 


21* 


490 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


O 

// 


AWVV\ 

th. 

I I I 


© 

// 


/V^A/W\| 

1111 


yVWwVSA 


/WVVWV 

I I I 


4 


AVwW/WV 


i I 


I I I 


Before  concluding  these 
remarks,  I venture  to  give 
the  illustration  which  I have 
before  alluded  to,  of  a song 
found  in  one  of  the  tombs 
at  El  Kab,  or  Eileitbyas,  by 
way  of  showing  briefly  a 
few  of  the  characteristics  of 
hieroglyphic  writing.  The 
ordinary  rule  is,  that  the 
lines  are  to  be  read  from  the 
direction  toward  which  the 
animals  are  looking.  This 
song  will  therefore  be  read 
from  right  to  left. 

The  first  line,  Mr.  Birch 
writes, 


hi  ten  en  ten 


The  character  at  the  end  of  this  line  is  a direction,  twice  or 
repeat  The  same  direction  occurs  at  the  end  of  the  third  hne. 
The  song  is  thus  translated  : 


Thrash  ye  for  yourselves, 

Thrash  ye  for  yourselves, 

Thrash  ye  for  yourselves,  0 oxen ; 

Thrash  ye  for  yourselves, 

Thrash  ye  for  yourselves, 

Measures  of  grain  for  yourselves, 

Measures  of  grain  for  your  masters.” 

A comparison  of  the  English  with  the  original  wdll  afford  an 
interesting  occupation  for  the  reader  who  may  have  leisure  for  it 
Such  obvious  characteristics  as  the  symbolic  representation  of  the 
words  thrash,  oxen,  measures  of  grain,  the  plural  being  indicated 
by  the  three  marks  under  them,  I need  only  mention  to  show  the 
thoughtful  reader  the  prominent  characteristics  of  this  ancient 
style  of  writing. 

This  song  is  among  the  oldest  pieces  of  written  poetry  extant. 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


491 


Scarcely  so  old  as  the  words  of  Lamech,  but  perhaps  quite  as 
ancient  as  the  triumph  of  Miriam. 

Thus  much  must  suffice,  in  this  brief  paper,  on  a subject  which 
volumes  would  be  required  to  make  a complete  history  of.  The 
reader  will  find  ample  assistance  in  the  English  and  French  pubh- 
cations,  should  he  desire  to  pursue  the  subject  further  than  this 
outline  may  instruct  him.  At  the  present  time,  learned  men  in 
almost  every  nation  except  our  own,  are  devoting  their  labor  to 
the  development  of  the  system.  Some,  indeed,  remain  unconvinced  » 
of  its  value,  but  nearly  all  scholars  have  yielded  to  the  clearness  and 
conclusive  force  of  the  reasoning,  as  well  as  the  results,  of  the 
ChampoUion  system.  Dr.  Seyfarth,  in  Gt-ermany,  holds  to  one  of 
the  old  theories,  and  has  pubhshed  elaborate  and  voluminous  works 
since  1844  in  its  support.  This  theory  requires  all  the  pages  of 
Dr.  Seyfarth’s  works  to  explain,  and  then  in  a most  unintelligible 
manner.  He  supposes  the  hieroglyphics  to  have  certain  relations  to 
astrology,  and  to  possess  variable -value  according  to  the  zodiacal 
position  they  may  occupy,  or  in  wliich  they  have  been  used.  His 
system  has  one  advantage,  that  it  enables  him  to  translate  any 
passage  or  inscription  to  which  his  attention  is  directed,  it  being 
competent  to  suppose  the  hieroglyphics  were  used  in  any  astrolog- 
ical connection  necessary  to  give  the  translation  desired,  and  no 
one  can  estabhsh  the  falsehood  of  the  version  so  produced. 

The  steadfast  progress  of  the  method  of  Champolhon  has  suffi- 
ciently settled  its  truth  and  value. 

The  system  is  far  from  complete,  and  as  yet  the  results  have  been 
meagre  in  historic  value,  as  compared  with  the  reasonable  expec- 
tations of  its  discoverer  and  his  followers.  This  arises  from  the 
peculiar  character  of  the  Egyptian  sculptures.  The  monuments 
abound  in  addresses  to  the  gods,  repetitions  of  prayers  and  sacred 
formulas,  but  historical  sculpture,  or  papyri,  are  rare  indeed.  The 
habits,  manners,  and  customs,  and  rehgion  of  the  ancient  Egypt- 
ians, are  before  us  in  a thousand  pictures  and  in  these  sculptures. 

But  the  succession  of  kings,  and  the  relation  of  events  in  Egypt  to 
events  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  can  be  but  roughly  guessed  at 
from  such  tablets  as  those  at  Philas,  Abydos,  El  Kab,  and  else- 
where, on  which  occur  names  and  successions  of  royal  personages, 
but  no  dates,  periods  of  reign,  life,  or  cotemporary  history. 


492 


WRITTEN  LANGUAGE. 


When,  as  in  the  case  of  the  subjugation  of  Eehoboam  by  Shi-, 
shak,  we  find  allusions  to  cotemporary  history,  we  have  starting- 
points  fixed,  but  intermediate  monarchs,  their  succession  and  the 
length  of  their  several  reigns,  can  not  be  accurately  and  conclusively 
determined,  until  we  find  some  more  complete  historical  papyrus 
or  tablet  than  is  as  yet  known. 

If  there  were  extant  a history  of  Egypt  in  hieroglyphics,  our 
present  knowledge  is  ample  to  translate  it  with  correctness.  Hence 
the  importance  of  additional  searches  in  Egypt,  and  government 
excavations.  Each  new  sculpture,  or  papyrus,  discovered,  may  be 
the  most  valuable  yet  known. 

I can  not  forego  the  hope  that  our  own  government  may  in  time 
lend  its  aid  to  these  investigations,  in  which  there  is  a field  for 
American  talent  and  enterprise,  discoveries  in  which  will  add  to 
the  glory  of  the  country,  while  they  may  tend  to  the  confirmation 
of  the  Christian  religion,  and  will  increase  the  great  sum  of  human 
knowledge. 


B. 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 

For  lovers  of  all  that  is  luxurious  in  travel,  of  all  that  is  glorious 
in  memory,  of  the  grand,  the  beautiful,  the  picturesque,  and  the 
strange,  Egyptian  travel  is  the  perfection  of  life.  For  invalids  it 
surpasses  any  country  in  the  world,  and  the  voyage  on  the  Nile  is 
perfect  dolce  far  niente.  I do  most  seriously  recommend  a winter 
in  Egypt  to  invalids,  especially  to  such  as  have  pulmonary  affec- 
tions. The  climate  is  even,  calm,  and  delicious.  In  the  shade  it  is 
not  hot,  and  the  evenings  and  nights  are  profoundly  still,  clear,  and 
beautiful.  Day  and  night  the  atmosphere  is  the  same.  There  are 
no  changes  from  heat  to  cold,  or  the  reverse.  There  is  no  labor  in 
visiting  ruins.  All  of  Egypt  is  on  the  Nile.  Your  boat  is  a home 
that  becomes,  like  your  own  in  America,  inexpressibly  dear  to  you, 
and  it  floats  along  from  temple  to  palace,  from  pyramid  to  tomb, 
from  old  glory  to  old  glory.  The  day,  the  week,  the  voyage,  is  one 
long  dream  of  delight,  and  the  memory  of  it  an  inheritance  of 
pleasure.  Medical  attendance  in  Cairo,  of  the  highest  order,  is 
always  to  be  obtained,  and  advice  for  the  voyage,  should  the  invalid 
be  in  condition  to  need  it. 

As  for  the  comfort  of  the  voyage,  I have  only  to  repeat  that 
there  is  no  hotel. in  Europe,  from  Morley’s  or  the  Hotel  du  Louvre 
down  to  the  vile  inn  at  Capua,  in  which  the  traveler  will  live  so 
well  in  all  respects  as  on  his  Nile  boat.  The  larder  is  always  full 
of  game,  and  the  shore  abounds  in  chickens,  eggs,  turkeys,  and 
mutton. 

The  insects,  of  which  so  much  has  been  said  in  oriental  travel, 
are  but  a small  annoyance.  For  every  one  that  I found  in  Egypt 
there  are  ten  in  Rome.  Italy  is  in  this  respect  much  worse  than 


494 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


Egypt.  Fleas  abound,  but  a Cairene  invention  of  flea-powder  is  a 
perfect  safeguard  against  them.  Lice  are  sometimes  found  by  the 
traveler  on  his  person,  after  being  carried  on  the  shoulders  of  a 
native.  We  had  no  mosquitoes  above  Cairo.  No  vermin  need  be 
found  on  the  boat  if  the  traveler  take  proper  care  of  its  cleanhness 
before  hiring  it. 

I know  by  experience  the  necessity  of  the  few  pages  which  I 
here  add  by  way  of  advice  to  my  roving  countrymen. 

Americans  leaving  home  to  go  to  Egypt  need  make  no  prepara- 
tions in  this  country.  The  direct  route  is  from  New  York  or 
Boston  to  Liverpool  or  Havre,  thence  to  Marseilles,  and  from 
Marseilles  by  steamer  to  Alexandria. 

The  Peninsular  and  Oriental  Company’s  steamers  from  South- 
ampton touching  at  Gibraltar  would,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
offer  the  most  pleasant  conveyance,  but  they  are  invariably  taken 
up  by  the  India  passengers.  Gentlemen  traveling  alone  will  do 
well  enough  on  them,  but  ladies  going  only  to  Egypt  will  fail  to 
find  cabin  room. 

The  French  steamers  leave  Marseilles  every  two  weeks,  touch- 
ing at  Malta,  where  they  lie  over  night.  They  are  miserable, 
second-class  vessels,  as  are  nearly  all  the  French  Messagerie  Im- 
periale  steamers  on  the  Mediterranean. 

Were  I going  again  at  this  time,  I should  without  hesitation  go 
from  Paris  to  Vienna  and  Trieste,  taking  thence  the  Austrian 
Lloyd’s  steamer  to  Alexandria,  which  is  a better  steamer  than  the 
French,  and  better  manned.  The  Mediterranean  trip  is  much 
shorter  by  this  route,  an  important  consideration  on  a sea  so  noto- 
riously disagreeable.  Tliis  route,  however,  has  this  disadvantage, 
that  it  affords  no  such  opportunity  for  making  purchases  on  the 
route,  preparatory  to  a winter  on  the  Nile,  as  the  voyager  will 
find  at  Malta. 

Ladies  of  the  most  delicate  constitutions  need  have  no  apprehen- 
sions in  passing  a winter  in  Egypt.  The  climate  is  delicious,  the 
Nile  boat  is  as  comfortable  as  a hotel,  and  every  luxury  is  provided 
by  a careful  dragoman  that  the  most  fastidious  could  desire.  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  “roughing  it”  in  Egypt. 

The  purchases  of  which  I have  spoken  are  not  many,  but  a few 
are  important. 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


495 


A first-rate  fowling-piece  is  indispensable  to  a gentleman  on  the 
Nile.  Water  /owl  of  all  kinds  abound,  and  the  shores  are  lined 
with  flocks  of  pigeons,  a variety  precisely  like  our  common  blue 
barn  pigeon. 

Arms  are  useful  only  for  show  in  Egypt.  It  is  well  to  have  a 
good  pistol,  and  in  Syria  it  is  necessary.  I found  the  volcanic  pis- 
tol, as  it  is  called,  much  preferable  to  Colt’s.  The  latter  was 
constantly  getting  out  of  order,  and  from  the  falling  of  the  cap 
between  the  cylinder  and  the  hammer,  was  useless  twice  out  of 
three  times  after  the  first  shot.  I carried  the  fixed  ammunition 
of  the  volcanic  pistol  with  me  in  all  climates,  and  found  it  infalli- 
ble. It  is  compact  and  safe.  I recommend  it  to  the  eastern 
traveler. 

Take  plenty  of  gunpowder  and  shot  from  Malta.  They  are 
very  scarce  and  very  expensive  in  Egypt. 

A first  rate  opera-glass  is  preferable  to  a telescope  for  Nile  uses. 
Purchase  this  in  Paris,  or  better  still,  if  you  pass  through  Ger- 
many, in  Munich,  where  very  small  glasses  of  great  power  can  be 
procured. 

What  wines  you  wish,  buy  in  France  or  in  Malta.  If  you  go 
from  Marseilles  by  French  steamer,  purchase  your  supply  there, 
for  your  entire  eastern  tour.  You  will  have  no  trouble  in  the 
Alexandrian  custom-house. 

Buy  no  Spanish  wines  in  Marseilles ; leave  them  till  you  reach 
Malta.  Drive  directly  to  Woodhouse’s  on  your  arrival  in  Malta, 
and  let  him  send  on  board  your  steamer  what  supply  of  Marsala 
wune  you  wish.  This  is  probably  the  best  wine  you  can  take  to 
Egypt.  It  is  as  a matter  of  health,  preferable  to  claret,  and  the 
latter  will  not  stand  a winter  on  the  Nile.  I found  a quarter  cask 
of  Marsala  more  than  sufficient  for  our  party  of  four,  seeing,  as  we 
did,  much  company. 

Books  are  an  essential  to  the  pleasure  of  the  voyage.  Wilkin- 
son’s works,  and  Murray’s  edition  of  Wilkinson  (Murray’s  Guide- 
Book  for  Egypt),  Lane’s  Modern  Egyptians,  and  any  books  of 
travel  by  way  of  hand-book  will  be  sufficient  for  the  ordinary 
pleasure  traveler.  Others  will  increase  this  stock,  and  general 
reading  books  are  not  out  of  the  way  on  a Nile  boat. 

Make  no  arrangements  with  a dragoman  in  Malta.  Under  no 


49C 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


circumstances  be  induced  to  take  one  till  you  reach  Cairo.  En- 
glish is  spoken  by  every  one  at  Alexandria  with  whom  you  will 
be  hkely  to  meet. 

On  arriving  at  Alexandria,  go  on  shore  without  a commission- 
aire or  guide.  You  will  find  donkeys,  and  donkey-boys  who 
speak  English.  Probably  the  regular  commissionaire  from  one  of 
the  hotels  will  be  on  board.  If  so,  let  him  take  care  of  you  and 
your  luggage.  If  not,  leave  your  luggage  on  board,  and  send 
from  the  hotel  for  it. 

At  Alexandria,  go  to  the  Hotel  d’Europe  or  the  Peninsular  and 
Oriental,  on  the  grand  square.  The  Victoria,  not  on  the  square,  is 
kept  by  an  Englishman,  and  I believe  is  comfortable. 

Employ  a dragoman  as  a guide  for  the  few  days  you  remain  in 
Alexandria,  but  no  longer.  The  regular  price  all  the  world  over 
is  five  francs  a day.  You  go  to  Cairo  by  rail. 

At  Cairo,  go  to  Williams’s  India  Family  Hotel.  It  is  more 
home-like  than  the  others,  which  are  large  barns.  I have  heard 
that  Shepherd  has  sold  out.  If  so,  the  hotel  that  was  his  may  be 
tolerable,  which  it  was  not  last  winter. 

In  selecting  a boat  for  the  Nile  voyage,  leave  nothing  to  your 
dragoman,  but  go  and  examine  every  boat  yourself.  Insist  on  it 
being  newly^  painted  and  varnished.  Be  particular  about  the  var- 
nish, for  the  paint  never  dries  without  it. 

There  are  two  sizes  of  boats.  There  are  a dozen  for  that  mat- 
ter, but  the  traveler  need  only  inquire  for  this  distinction,  whether 
the  boat  is  too  large  to  ascend  the  first  cataract.  If  his  voyage  is 
only  to  the  first  cataract  he  may  take  a large  boat;  if  beyond,  it 
must  be  somewhat  smaller. 

All  the  provisions  and  furniture  for  the  voyage  may  be  obtained 
at  Cairo.  If  the  traveler  make  such  a contract  as  I made,  he 
need  give  himself  no  concern  about  this  whatever.  If  he  prefer 
to  pay  a dragoman  by  the  day,  he  must  hunt  up  his  own  food  and 
fixtures  in  the  shops,  as  well  as  along  the  river. 

In  selecting  a dragoman  it  is  impossible  to  advise.  The  best  of 
the  class  are  great  scamps.  I have  no  doubt  that  Mohammed  Abd- 
el-Atti  is  one  of  the  best  dragomans  in  Egypt.  I saw  no  one  that 
I considered  his  equal  in  intelligence  and  ability.  He  proved  a 
faithful  servant  to  me  during  more  than  seven  months  of  life  among 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


497 


the  Arabs,  from  Abou  Seir  to  Damascus,  and  I learned  his  faults  as 
■well  as  his  virtues.  He  has  a furious  temper  and  an  ardent  love 
of  money.  These  are  his  sins.  Let  who  can  find  one  of  his  class 
•without  them.  Treat  him  as  a gentleman  should  treat  an  educated 
and  respectable  interpreter  and  courier,  and  he  •will  serve  you  most 
faithfully. 

My  contract  •was  jpade  for  a longer  period  than  most  persons 
•wiU  -wish  to  pass  on  the  Nile,  and  the  rate  payable  per  diem,  after 
the  exhaustion  of  the  pay  days  aUo^wed  by  the  contract,  -was  three 
pounds,  -w'hich  for  four  persons'was  about  three  and  three  quarter 
dollars  each  per  day.  I paid  much  more  than  -was  necessary,  and 
if  going  up  the  Nile  again,  should  have  no  difficulty  in  making  the 
trip  in  the  same  style  for  four  dollars  per  day  for  each  person,  and 
three  dollars  for  extra  days  of  stoppage. 

The  expense  of  a -winter  in  Egypt  is  less  than  in  almost  any 
other  part  of  the  East.  A reference  to  the  contract  which  I give 
in  full  on  page  122,  -wiU  show  precisely  the  expense  which  a party 
of  four  persons  are  at  for  the  most  comfortable  and  luxurious  ar- 
rangements that  are  ever  made  on  the  Nile.  Gentlemen  traveling 
without  ladies,  should  under  no  circumstances  pay  more  than  four 
dollars  per  day  for  the  Nile  voyage,  unless  they  travel  singly,  which 
they  will  find  too  lonesome  by  far.  Any  one  paying  over  a pound 
a day  alone,  or  four  dollars  if  with  another  person,  may  regard 
liimself  as  cheated. 

If  you  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  the  people,  and  their 
manners  and  customs,  select  an  Egyptian  dragoman. 

If  you  take  a Maltese,  look  up  Francis  Abrams,  an  honest  fellow 
for  a Maltese,  who  served  me  faithfully  for  some  weeks. 

You  will  need  in  Egypt  ordinary  clothing,  such  as  would  be 
worn  in  New  York  in  May  or  the  latter  part  of  September,  with 
overcoats  for  cold  changes.  No  special  provision  in  this  respect 
need  be  made. 

Medical  advice  is  not  wanting  in  Cairo,  where  Dr.  Abbott 
■will  be  found,  a skillful  and  learned  physician,  long  resident,  famil- 
iar with  all  the  necessities  of  the  chmate,  and  himself  an  agreeable 
and  dehghtful  companion.  His  name  is  already  well  known  in 
America. 

With  these  few  liints  in  his  mind,  the  traveler  who  desires  to 


498 


TO  TRAVELERS  VISITING  EGYPT. 


go  to  Egypt  for  the  winter,  may  pack  up  his  baggage  and  go,  heed- 
less of  the  thousand  doubts  and  apprehensions  which  a journey  to 
a remote  and  almost  barbarian  country  almost  necessarily  suggests. 
With  this  advice  before  him,  he  may  go  to  Egypt  as  confidently 
as  to  England  or  France. 


Tna  END. 


SISTE  VIATOR! 


53uir 

Xn  tSe  atits  ot  Yorft,  on  E2!^£imes^jan,  ^prfl  3,  1872, 

iltarg  StrumbuU  |)rimc 

13aui3l)ter  of  tbc  J^on,  CKurtion  S^runtbull,  of  5[^artfortr,  Conn., 
anH  ffiSFffe  of  ffi^UUam  <3:.  3Prime.  Jl^tv  temams  toere  fatten  to 
j^artforti  for  interment. 

The  readers  of  “Boat  Life  in  Egypt  and  Nubia,”  and  “Tent  Life 
in  the  Holy  Land,”  will  be  interested  in  knowing  that  the  “ Miriam  ” 
of  those  volumes  of  travel,  the  wife  of  the  author,  having  accompanied 
him  in  two  pilgrimages  to  the  Holy  City,  has  now  gone  to  “ the  Je- 
rusalem which  is  above,  the  mother  of  us  all.”  In  her  frame  of  ethe- 
real purity,  delicacy,  and  frailty,  was  a spirit  of  intense  energy,  glad- 
ness, and  beauty,  refined  by  grace  and  the  highest  literary  and  artistic 
culture,  making  her  the  charming  companion  and  friend,  the  centre 
of  a wide,  admiring,  and  now  sorely  smitten  circle  of  loving  friends. 
Through  many  years  the  patient  sufferer  under  painful  disease  that 
made  life  at  home  or  abroad,  on  sea  or  land,  a conflict,  she  was  always 
the  cheerful,  buoyant  companion,  the  light  of  other  hearts  while  her 
own  was  the  seat  of  mortal  pain,  and  with  peaceful,  joyous  hope  and 
holy,  Christian  faith,  she  waited  for  the  Lord.  And  when  her  weary 
feet  touched  the  other  shore,  she  said,  “He  will  keep  the  feet  of 
his  saints,”  and  so  entered  into  rest. — [JV.  V.  Observer.] 


!C 


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i ft  O i A.  i ^3^  o i 3 


rJaiQ 


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